


Never Look Back.

by natalievenom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunters, Female Protagonist, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Past Violence, Running, Secrets, Skinwalker, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1456609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalievenom/pseuds/natalievenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Marshall has been running from her past for a long time, it was inevitable that she'd come full circle one day. Now she's back in Sioux Falls on a routine haunting job, but someone else is working the case already. With the Winchesters and their circle of hunters back in her life, Evelyn will finally have to face the fate she's been hiding from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

There were two reasons hunters travelled. Either they were tracking something, or they were running from something. For me it was the latter, though I cleverly disguised it as the former. What was I running from?

The same thing everyone tries to run from.

Death.

I started out in England. My mother was a witch, and my father was a skin walker. Wherever their match was made, it certainly wasn't Heaven. Regardless of the blood in their veins, they shared a common profession. They were hunters. And I was destined to be one too. Now, therein lay the problem.

Despite the fact many would call them monsters, they were well respected among their fellow hunters. Hell, they even had the privilege of calling some of them friends. Their talents often came in handy. After all, a man who could conceal himself as a German Shepard to gather intelligence, and a woman who could naturally channel magic were great additions to any team. Even after I was born, they continued to roam the world offering their assistance to any hunter or human who needed it.

That was how they met the Winchesters, Bobby Singer, and Ellen Harvelle.

I only had vague memories of the Winchester boys. While my parents worked jobs in America with their friends, I was under the care of uncle Bobby. I was too little for weapons training, and frankly I thought he might have been put off trying while I was wearing cute little pink dungarees and had pigtails in my dark hair. I watched him work on cars, take calls, read books, and offer advice to the people still out in the field. Even if he wasn't wielding a gun in the face of some vampire in a dark alley, he was still a hunter, and he was contributing more than I could at such a time.

Then the inevitable happened for my father.

Death caught up.

It could have been so many things, a bullet, a knife, a demon or a werewolf. As it happened, it was a car. He ran across the street as a dog and was hit by a car. Some might have called it a shameful death, to be mowed down by a stupid human rather than taken honourably in a fight. I thought it was better, in my own way. I wasn't happy to lose my father. I was devastated. But there was no chance for vengeance, no misguided, self-serving quest to track the creature down. It was an accident, plain and simple.

My mother retired, remarried several years later, and tried to raise me like a normal kid. From aged twelve to sixteen I went to school regularly and got normal friends. I worried about my hair, my clothes, and watched television on Saturday mornings. But there were things I did that other kids didn't. I learnt how to fight.

No one ever really retires from hunting.

After the death of my mother and step-father I found myself lost. With only a journal, a motorbike, and a bag full of weapons and an off shore bank account I could draw my inheritance from (for as long as that managed to last), I tried to make my way in the world. Not a lot of people took a young hunter seriously, particularly not a female one, but I was going to prove them wrong.

And I never stopped trying.

Now here I was, twenty-four years old and riding across America. The stretches of barren desert with tiny settlements which rolled out toward cities, forests, coasts and mountains, it was a truly diverse country. If I hadn't been so busy moving from one job to the next I might have slowed down to appreciate it a little more. But there was work here. A lot of it. I wouldn't gain anything save a feeling that my life had a little value. Another person saved was another success, another reason for me to carry on saving more people until my good fortune ran out and I went the way of my parents.

It was a visit to Sioux Falls to handle a routine haunting which threw me back into the path of my long forgotten extended family.

Okay, so maybe a haunting wasn't something you could call routine. It wasn't like the dead played by a particular set of rules, they were all a little different. But I had seen enough of them to be confident enough to take it on alone. Working in a group was my parent's thing, not mine. I didn't want to have someone slowing me down, or someone I would have to keep an eye on while I was working. People and friends were distractions. Or at least that's the thought that stopped me from being lonely. Hunting was dangerous anyway. I couldn't afford the luxury of friends.

"Oh, you're FBI?" the young woman who opened the door asked me, her toddler supported against her hip and a dish towel over her shoulder. She examined my badge carefully before handing it back and I tucked it neatly into the inside pocket of my blazer.

"I'm on loan," I lied rather than trying to find some in depth excuse for my English accent, "I am truly sorry for the death of your husband, Mrs. Harrison. I don't want to take up too much of your time, I just have to go through a few routine questions and examine the scene. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes I suppose – I just – the other agents are," she motioned toward the inside of the house, "I didn't think they'd send so many."

"So many..?" she allowed me to pass and I put my hand on the gun at my hip. There was a chance some real federal agents had turned up to the scene, but they didn't usually bother with backwater little towns like this, not when the death could be passed off as a freak accident or an act of God. It was hard to miss the pair of suits who were stood in the kitchen examining the knife block which was still overturned on the counter, and notably empty. Possibly because the knives had taken up residence in the face of Mr. Harrison.

A floorboard creaked beneath my boot and the pair stood sharply, their own hands shifting to where I assumed they also carried concealed weapons. I slowly took my fingers away from my gun and held up my palms to show I had no intention of harming them. Mrs. Harrison wasn't far behind me and I made a point of saying, "There must have been a miscommunication at the bureau, I thought I was going to be handling the questioning alone."

The men fixed false smiles to their faces and in a reassuring tone the tallest of the pair said, "We were in the area and got a call. How about we finish you up here and we'll bring you up to speed back at the office?"

Yeah right.

"No, please," I felt my smile strain, "I'll wait for you to finish. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"How considerate," the shorter man replied tersely.

From the way his short hair was lightly spiked and he'd allowed a smattering of stubble to grow through on his strong jaw I guessed he was a hunter. No FBI agent was going to go out on a job looking like they were going to a photo shoot when they wrapped it up. The other, I thought, was too young to be in the FBI. He was older than me, but not by much. His stature and build lent him a few years, but his long hair would not meet official uniform regulations.

Mrs. Harrison was clearly traumatised. Had I been a genuine agent I would have offered her the number of a good psychiatrist. She sobbed her way through the questions the two young men posed, the youngest of the pair taking on a far more caring demeanour than the other, who kept his questions blunt and to the point. I made notes in my untidy scrawl, mentally scratching out various species and sub-species, and noting persons of interest who might have a connection to the house or family. By all accounts the man seemed like a normal guy, it was odd that whatever it was had targeted him and left wife and son unscathed. Not that I was complaining, I didn't like to see children getting hurt.

"Thank you for your time," I said when we were done and shook Mrs. Harrison's hand gently, "We'll be in touch."

"Yeah, what she said," the shorter man pitched in.

Once the door was closed the masks fell away.

"FBI? Really?" the tall man asked, "Show me your badge."

"Why, do you think your act was so much more convincing?" I snorted derisively, "Get over yourselves, Bonnie and Clyde, you're amateurs."

"Bonnie and – we are not amateurs!" the short man snapped, "And – which one is Bonnie?"

"You're Bonnie," I smirked.

"Dean, can we focus here?" he let out a breath through his nose, "This is our job, okay? We were here first."

"Yeah, Queen Victoria," Dean elbowed his companion, "Sammy and I have got this, so how about you get your royal pain in the ass back home for some tea?"

"Sam and Dean? As in – Winchester?"

"Yeah, not amateurs!" Dean snapped.

Maybe leaving wasn't such a bad idea. I didn't know that I was ready for a blast from the past. At least now I knew why this place was so familiar. Bobby probably still lived nearby. A part of me wanted to go and visit him. The saner, and more rational part of me, reminded me all I'd get for my trouble was a clip around the ear and a bottle of holy water to the face.

My silence must have aroused some suspicion in the pair. I could tell from the way they cast a furtive glance between themselves, and how they shifted their weight between their feet uneasily, that they were deciding whether or not I posed some kind of a threat. It was a joke to think that physically I might be a danger to them. They were large men, muscled, although they looked like this job had worn on them. There was no hiding the shadows beneath their eyes. They weren't so pronounced that they drew away any of the handsomeness in their faces, but it was obvious they were in desperate need of a decent night's sleep. I was fairly slight in stature. My muscles were toned, defined, but I was built for speed and grace rather than brute force. If either of these boys wanted to, they could knock me to the ground with a single punch. I'm glad that they didn't seem thus far inclined to do any such thing.

Determined to ease their concerns, if only to ensure I could escape without risk of them following me, I said, "It looks like you kids have this in hand. I'll bet Bobby will be happy to help if you need it."

"How do you know Bobby?" Sam asked.

Well. Shit.

The man had been lurking at the forefront of my mind since I had come to America. Now I knew who they were, it had just kind of slipped out. In my head I raced through all the stock excuses I had created to get myself out of awkward situations. The list was as long as the Bible and yet I couldn't mentally grasp at a single one that might fly. When I opened my mouth the only thing that came out was a nervous laugh, followed by an equally nervous, "I should really go..."

As I backed up a few steps they approached. For a pair of scruffy yanks, they did a good job of pulling off the menacing smoulder look. The motorbike I'd rented was a few streets over, it didn't look professional for a phony FBI agent to arrive on something with two wheels, and I wasn't sure I fancied my chances if I took off on foot.

"Look," I held up my hands in a show of peace and surrender, "I just came for the job. If you can handle it, then I won't step on your toes. All I want to do is get the hell out of Sioux Falls. That should suit everyone, right?"

"Wrong," Dean lunged for me and I darted out of the way. I wasn't going to linger and see if I could talk my way out of this, I was going to run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. My feet pounded the pavement, the short heels of my polished black boots clicking away madly, making it impossible for me to employ any stealth in my escape. I thought I'd made a fairly good job of it, hell I thought for one fleeting moment that I was safe. That was when an arm looped around my waist from behind. My feet left the ground and I flailed my legs pathetically in the air.

"Settle down, we don't want to hurt you!" Sam insisted.

"Speak for yourself," Dean said before I felt a dull impact against the back of my head. My body fell limp and heavy in Sam's grip as the lights went out, hopefully not permanently.


	2. Two

When I came to, it was still dark. I could hear the rumble and purr of an engine, so concluded I must be in the trunk of the infamous Impala. Well, there were worse places to be, but this wasn't doing my claustrophobia any good. I twisted until I was on my back and kicked my bound feet upwards against the inside of the trunk.

"Hey!" I heard Dean call back from inside the car, "You dent my baby and I'll knock you out again!"

Typical man – more concerned about his car than his hostage. I wrinkled my nose at the musty car smell wafting around me, the fumes thrown out by the nearby exhaust seeping through the lock. When I squinted I could just about make out something that might have been a devil's trap chalked in above me. Did they think I was a demon? Or was that just there because they had a need to regularly abduct and transport that scum around in their car? I dropped my head back and closed my eyes again. I had a vague idea of where we were headed, and it wasn't going to be a long journey.

The car stopped, boots crunched on gravel, and a lock turned. Light flooded the trunk and I squeezed my eyes closed briefly to block it out. Some warning might have been nice. Dean waved his gun at me and ordered, "Out, and don't even think about running."

"Yeah because that's super easy when you've got me tied up like a pig at a barbecue," I growled back and swung my feet out. Sam took some pity on me, or something close to it, and helped me out. I was slung over his bony shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried through a back lot of banged up cars, all of them waiting on the attention of the retired mechanic in residence. This was so humiliating. My stomach ached where Sam's shoulder dug into me, and I didn't much like that they were going to hand me over to Bobby in this condition. He wasn't going to think much of my skills as a hunter if these two Neanderthals had brought me in so easily.

"Bobby!" Dean pounded his fist against the door a few times and called again, "Hey, Bobby! Open up, it's us."

Chains rattled, tumblers rolled, and locks clicked on the other side of the door. Bobby was as paranoid as ever. The door opened and we were permitted passage across the threshold. His voice was as gruff as I remembered and he asked, "What the hell is this?"

"Not sure," Sam replied, "She was posing as FBI, but when she heard our names she bolted."

"Seemed to know you, though," Dean pitched in. A chair scraped across the floorboards and I was dumped into it unceremoniously. My long, dark brown hair was in such disarray that it covered most of my face. It didn't stay that way. Bobby pushed it back and flung most of the contents of his flask at me. This was the very reason I wore waterproof make-up. One reason, anyway. I coughed and glared at him when I snapped, "Was that really necessary?"

"Gotta be sure, kid," Bobby retorted. I figured he didn't recognise me, I didn't have pigtails or braces any more, but he dropped to a kneel and examined my features, "Violet?"

"Close," Violet was my mother, "Try again, Uncle Bobby."

"Evelyn?!" he laughed, "Well would you look at that, you're here and –"

"And tied up," I interrupted, "Think we could do something about that?"

"Evelyn?" Dean clapped a hand on Bobby's shoulder, "Who the hell is Evelyn? And since when are you Uncle Bobby?"

"Shut up, you damn idjit," Bobby made short work of my restraints with his switch blade. I was glad he'd not tried to use silver on me. After all, I wasn't exactly human. I staggered to my feet and cracked my neck. God that felt better. I hated being the damsel in distress, it just wasn't my style. I gave Bobby a hug, one he returned awkwardly and released me from as quickly as he possibly could. I kind of wish he hadn't, because I got a slap around the back of the head when he did, "What do you think you're doing out here?"

"First of all – ow," I rubbed at the back of my head gingerly, "Second – I was going to hunt a ghost, but Sunny and Cher over here beat me to it."

"What happened to Bonnie and Clyde?" Sam asked.

"You don't deserve nicknames that cool," I rolled my eyes, "And before you ask, Dean, you're Cher."

"Damn it," Dean cursed quietly.

"Hunting?" Bobby asked, "On your own? Your Mom retired so you wouldn't be dragged around in this life any more. Does she know you're gone, or should I be giving her a call?"

"You'd have a pretty hard time, she's been dead for years."

The look on Bobby's face made me regret putting it so bluntly. She was my mother, but she was also his friend. Loss was something hunters felt more often than most, but it didn't make it and less painful. The way his face fell from anger to confused sadness made my stomach knot. It was never going to be a happy reunion between us, but I hadn't wanted it to be this depressing. I hesitated a moment before reaching out and giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "It's okay, it was quick and she didn't suffer."

"Do I want to know how?"

"I – I don't think so," Bobby could probably handle it, but I didn't think I could. That had easily been the worst day of my life, and I was in no hurry to relive it. Given that Bobby didn't appear to be in any mood to introduce me I held out a hand to Sam and said, "I'm Evelyn Marshall, my parents were friends of Bobby's, and of your dad's."

"You knew our dad?" Sam asked.

"I was really young, I can't remember meeting him personally, but my parents talked about him a lot."

"He's dead, you know?" Dean asked bitterly.

"I know. Sorry."

"Yeah, everyone's always sorry."

"Don't mind him, he's always like that," Sam assured me.

"Wow, he must be a pleasure to share a car with."

"You have no idea."

"Hey, how about you two quit flirting and you tell us what the hell you were doing walking in on our job?" Dean demanded furiously, "You could have screwed that whole thing up, you know that? You really think you can pass for FBI?"

I wasn't sure I liked Dean all that much. I supposed I'd be angry if someone just waltzed right in when I was in the middle of an investigation, but it wasn't like I did it on purpose. I gently pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a long sigh. If we didn't try to deal with this hostility now it was only going to get worse. After counting to ten in my head, and then doing it again just to be sure I was calm, I said, "I'm sorry if I interrupted, but I didn't realise you were already there. You didn't exactly put a big notice up to warn me," I clenched my jaw, feeling that familiar frustration creeping in again. I didn't play well with others, "How about we just start over from here, sound good?"

It was a good try, but not good enough.

"You can come in here and play happy families all you like, sweetheart, but I don't trust you," Dean warned, "I can smell evil from a mile off, and you reek of it."

"Dean, she passed the test," Sam tried to calm his brother, but it was to no avail.

"She passed one test," Dean pulled a knife, "How about we see how she feels about silver?"

I took a half step back, "I don't feel so great about it, I'll be honest."

Dean smirked, but there was no smug humour or joy to it. He looked like he'd just won some kind of argument, that his fears about my trustworthiness were validated by my hesitation to submit to all the rigorous trials of proving my humanity. Cowardly though it might have been, I darted behind Bobby for shelter. I peered out from behind my only friend in the room when he explained, "She's part skin walker, I knew that already. Put the knife down, boy."

"Oh so we're making friends with monsters now?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Sam muttered.

Dean pointed the knife at his brother and then lowered it, "Yeah and you know what? Every time it ended badly. I ain't going to let another one screw us over just because she's got a pair of pretty brown eyes."

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Dean realised what he'd said and looked like he was mentally cursing himself already when Sam and I burst into laughter. Bobby wasn't quite so open with his amusement, but I saw him crack a smile. The tension eased at last, I removed myself from behind my temporary human shield and offered a hand to Dean, "Come on, I won't bite or anything."

"You sure about that?"

"Not even if you beg," I teased and grasped his large fingers in mine. We could at least be civil to one another, it was better than arguing. The niceties now exchanged I asked, "What are your thoughts on the case?"

"You were there, what do you think?" Sam perched himself on the edge of Bobby's cluttered desk. Doing so without knocking anything off was a skill in itself. I could have flipped through my notebook and reeled off the little ideas I'd had at the time, but I got the feeling that would make me look like a novice in this field.

I was just going with my gut feeling when I said, "Logically it would be a poltergeist, but I don't think that it is."

"We found EMF," Dean told me, "And we saw the body before we went to the house, those knives were flung at the guy. It looks an awful lot like a ghost."

"Maybe too much," Sam scratched at the back of his neck, his eyes on the floor. I could see it in his eyes as he mentally ran through everything he had seen and heard of this case so far. Something must not have been adding up, because he said, "Poltergeists usually terrorise every resident. Why would it just target the victim and not wreck the house or go for the kid?"

"Poltergeist with a conscience?" Dean suggested.

I bit my bottom lip before I suggested, "Or someone just wanted to make it look like a haunting to cover up something else."

This wasn't going to be a popular theory. Why? Because it meant that it could be just about anything. Dropping the most obvious answer was like opening a can of supernatural worms. It could be a demon, a human, or anything in between.

"Fantastic," Dean shook his head, "This is going to mean research, isn't it?"

"'Fraid so," Bobby patted the boy on the shoulder on his way to the kitchen, "I'll get the beers, and you get the books."

"I decided I still don't like you," Dean warned.

"Yeah, I don't really like me either right now," I agreed and grabbed the nearest, dustiest book I could see. This was going to take a while.


	3. Three

I felt the soft flesh of my prey beneath my canines. I tore through the surface and ruptured the blood vessels below. Their crimson life fluids spilled into my mouth. They would die, but I couldn't stop myself. All I saw was red, my anger, my hatred, the years of resentment pouring from me as their blood now did from them. 

Nothing could stop me now. I would have their life and my revenge. They would pay for what they had stolen from me, and I would sacrifice my humanity in the process.

“Holy Jesus!” I cursed aloud when ice cold water splashed against my face. I toppled from the sofa and onto the floor, my legs tangled in a threadbare blanket and my neck aching from the uncomfortable sleeping position I had twisted myself into before the rude awakening. 

Bobby towered over me, an empty glass in hand, “Nightmare?”

“Yeah, and I think I'm still having it,” I dabbed at my face with my sleeve, “You could have just shaken me awake.”

“This was faster.”

I mimicked Bobby's voice bitterly as I picked myself up. He slapped me around the back of the head again for the insult. Thinking better of swearing at him, I checked my reflection in the back of the flask he'd left on the desk and despaired at how dishevelled I looked. I'd left my bag in a bus locker, and my bike was still near the house of the victim. I didn't think Bobby would have any clothes lying around that would fit me. I was going to have to head back to town and pick everything up. At least he had a working shower – or so I hoped.

I traipsed upstairs, bleary eyed and exhausted, trying to remember how far I'd made it through the research before I'd succumbed to my exhaustion. I didn't have to ask which room was the bathroom, because a door opened ahead and a man came out wrapped in a towel. Out of shock and common courtesy I averted my eyes, though not before I managed a glance at Sam's bare torso. It gleaned with water from the shower, his hair sodden and clinging around his face and to his neck. If I thought he might be interested I'd have probably made a move on him. Who could say no to a freshly laundered adonis? But I was aware of my day old clothes and bed-hair, and the fact I had a no relationships rule to abide by. Besides, Sam seemed like a nice kid, he didn't want to get mixed up with a train wreck like me.

“Sorry,” he dodged into another room, probably just as embarrassed as I was at that moment, and slammed the door behind himself.

Well, at least there wasn't a queue. I could hear Bobby talking to Dean downstairs, and that meant for a few precious minutes I could be alone. And clean. Clean was something I longed for right now.

When I made it back downstairs, my make-up scrubbed from my face and my hair tied in a heavy braid which left a wet patch on the back of my shirt where it rested, I found the three men in the kitchen. They looked up at me when I entered, and I felt as if I was intruding. Not just on their conversation, but on this little set up they had. Bobby being the man with the plan, and the two boys being the foot soldiers. I didn't really see that I had a place here, and I figured Dean felt the same when he said, “You still here?”

I forced a smile and retorted, “Unless I'm hallucinating the three of you handsome devils then, yes, I am still here. Bobby, I need a ride into town.”

“Hey, he's not running a taxi service,” Dean snapped.

“Well I wouldn't need a ride if you hadn't abducted me in the first place,” I argued, “All of my stuff is there, and my bike.”

“You're runnin' a bike?” Bobby asked, “Where in the hell are you keepin' all your weapons?”

“I travel light.”

“How about you find your own way back there, sweetheart?” Dean slammed a hand down on the large book he'd been reading, “'Cus if you hadn't noticed, we're busy trying to crack a case here.”

“If you sweetheart me one more time I swear I'm going to –”

“Going to what, sweetheart?”

I drew back my fist, ready to take a punch into that perfect jaw of his, when Sam stood up and restrained me, “Calm down! Both of you, just,” he let out a breath of exasperation, “I'll drive you into town, okay? It's not like it'll take that long, I'll be back before you know it,” he assured his brother.

The ride into town was painfully quiet. It was hard to strike up conversations with strangers at the best of times, but when one was a hunter and the other was a monster? Well, that was nearly impossible. I commented on the weather, and then hated myself for being such a loser. Was it always this hard to communicate with other people? Being social was hard work! 

“You want me to wait for you?” Sam asked when I was out of the car.

“Scared I'm gonna run?”

He laughed softly and shook his head. Obviously he was. He had the grace to lie and said, “No I was just worried you might not know the way back.”

“Thanks, Sam, but I think I can work it out.”

No one had broken into the locker in my absence, my beat up backpack was crammed in just as awkwardly and untidily as I'd left it. I hauled it out and dropped the strap over my shoulder, then fished out the motorcycle helmet. Rather than carry it, I pulled it over my head and fasted the strap beneath my chin.

Running had crossed my mind. As I strode through Sioux Falls toward the old motorcycle I wondered how far I could get before someone tried to drag me back. God, I was starting to feel like some kind of prisoner. They weren't forcing me to stay, they weren't keeping me locked in a cage. But fleeing from them would make me seem like I had something to hide, it might make them wonder about me, make them dig into my past. I didn't want them to know I was a monster. I didn't want more hunters on my tail than I had already. As much as I hated to admit it, maintaining a friendship with the Winchesters might be my only shot at survival right now.

I was a couple of streets over, back in the neighbourhood of the victim, when I saw something strange. In my line of work strange was, well, not actually that strange. The little boy was out in the garden, his mother talking to a neighbour. That wasn't really that weird, normal people had polite conversations. But children under the age of five didn't usually try to kill small animals. Maybe the kid had started off petting it, and the cat had come in close voluntarily, but now the child was holding it around the throat and crushing the life out of it. The creature yowled and the mother turned, then separated her offspring from the poor animal and scolded her child sternly. It could be that he was just altered after the death of his father, or it could be something darker was going on here. Maybe he was possessed. I didn't much like demons. They made a mess, they killed for fun rather than survival, and they manipulated people by taking over their families.

I might have just found a way to cut down on the research time.

Mother carried her son back toward the house, but the boy looked over her shoulder and right at me. I thought maybe he had recognised me, but then remembered that I had a visor over my face, there was no way he knew who I was. I had to get back to Bobby's place, they needed to know about this.

I kicked the motorbike into life when I got back to it, fortunately no one had stolen the thing, not that it was worth much. It puttered and spat from the exhaust, but I got it running smoothly enough that I got back to the yard of scrap cars without breaking down. It was little over an hour since I had left Sam in the town. I didn't knock on the door, though I found myself staring down two barrels when I entered the house. I quickly pulled off the motorcycle helmet and assured Bobby, “It's okay, just me.”

“You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Yeah well, pretty sure it wasn't one of those,” I told him and kicked the door closed. I threw my things onto the sofa, a change of clothes now the furthest thing from my mind, “I think I know what killed that guy – wait, who's that?” I asked as I eyed the stranger who stood in close proximity to Dean.

His hair was black, his eyes almost cobalt blue and appearing all the brighter under those raven tresses. He fixed me with something between a confused stare and a furious glare, as if he resented my being there and wondered why Bobby hadn't blown my face off as soon as he had a clear shot. His trench coat was open, underneath his suit was untidy, his tie skewed. At first I thought he might be another hunter but there was something about him, something inhuman. Maybe not in his body, but in his eyes. He was an old soul, he'd seen things, and he was stronger than he first appeared.

“Castiel is a friend,” Sam answered my question before I had a chance to ask it, “He's an angel.”

I snorted with laughter, then I realised they meant that literally, “Oh – he's a – okay, I guess it's nice to meet you.”

“You are an abomination,” he told me bluntly in his gravelly voice.

“Ouch,” I held a hand over my heart like he's just shot an arrow through it, “You really know how to wound a girl.”

“It was not my aim to wound. However, if the need arise to kill you, I assure you that I would not stop at a mere injury.”

Something told me that he wasn't joking. I cleared my throat softly, the way he looked at me making me uncomfortable, like I was a threat he was anticipating he'd soon have to eliminate. I gave Bobby my attention, given he was the only one in the room who seemed to fully trust me it felt like my best option. In a serious voice I said, “I think this is demons, not a ghost.”

“Demons?” Dean asked in disbelief, “Why would demons kill some random dude for no reason?”

“Why do demons do anything?” Sam asked, “For fun.”

“Can I just ask something?” I asked.

“You just did,” Dean interrupted.

I gave him a hard glare before I continued, “Anyway – why exactly is there an angel in your living room?”

There was an awkward silence during which the brothers and Bobby exchanged glances. Humans were always reluctant to be open, actually a lot of creatures were, but angels didn't suffer the same affliction with dishonesty as others. Castiel told me openly, “Dean was concerned that you might be dangerous, and wanted to establish whether or not killing you before you turn on your friends would be a good idea.”

“And I thought we were starting out on a beautiful friendship, Dean,” I chided.

“No one is killin' anyone,” Bobby warned and finally lowered his gun. I felt a little outnumbered here. Sam was polite but he didn't trust me, and I got why, he hardly knew me after all. Dean hated me and I was trying hard not to take that personally but it was getting difficult to ignore. Castiel? Well, he didn't seem to understand the human condition. Neither did I as a matter of fact, but I figured I got it a lot more than he did. As for Bobby, well, he was the closest thing I had left to family. As much as I hated to admit it, as much as I tried to be alone, he was the one person I really felt loyalty for. I was like some abandoned puppy that wanted to curl up in the warmth of the person who fed them just one time. So desperate to be attached to someone caring that anything bad in them didn't matter, just the gentle nature of them. I'd seen Bobby's gentleness, and it was the one thing I craved now. I felt like a child when I was around him, the child abandoned on his doorstep whenever my doting parents had something better to do. 

This was exactly why I wanted to be alone. People roused my feelings, my human nature, and those feelings hurt.

I pushed my fingers through the strands of hair which had worked their way loose from my braid and said, “I saw the kid, the toddler from that family. There was definitely something going on there.”

“Possession?” Bobby asked.

“I think so,” I nodded and looked to Castiel, “How are you on exorcisms? Because that poor kid might have a demon riding in them right now, and they don't deserve to get burnt out before they reach double figures, you know?”

Castiel turned to Dean like he needed his approval for this. I didn't understand why something as powerful as an angel would look at a hunter like he was the one ready to bark the orders. I knew that England was a small country, and that we didn't really act as the centre for all the ground breaking, earth shattering events, but we didn't have mortals calling the shots. Things were in order over there, but here? Here everything had turned on its head.

“We need to determine if it really is a demon, firstly,” Dean said, and eyed me suspiciously.

“You think I'd make this up?”

“I think you're not telling us the whole truth about what you are, and I think you're more dangerous than you're letting on,” Dean corrected, “And I think given the chance you would probably kill all of us. So I want this clarified before we go in there and do anything to some innocent kid.”

“Fine,” I grabbed the motorcycle helmet from the sofa, “I'll deal with this myself.”

“We want to help,” Sam told me, “But it's just not worth rushing in, someone could get hurt.”

“And if we sit on our backsides that kid will get hurt!” I argued, “Sooner is better than later!”

“Evelyn –” Bobby started.

“No!” I interrupted, “I won't let a demon ride around inside some innocent kid while you guys stick your noses in books. This thing can be forced out, and if you won't help me then I'll go in alone.”


	4. Four

Tough talk was all well and good, but when I was out on my own I didn't feel quite so confident. It didn't take long to get back to that street. It was still light out, there were people mowing their lawns, walking home, talking to neighbours. They had no idea that just beyond the illusion they called reality, there was a much darker world just aching to bleed through and touch theirs. Humans were so ignorant, so stupid. It was a wonder they had survived as long as they had. Were it not for people like the Winchesters, they would be walking a fiery path through hell on earth by now.

I killed the engine on the bike and swung my leg over it. The side of the street where the victim had lived was curiously quiet. I left my helmet hanging from the handlebars, armed myself with as many weapons as I could slip into my belt and pockets, and then started towards the house. I was going to have to pretend I was FBI again to get past the mother, though I wasn't sure how I would convince her to hand over her child for an exorcism.

Fortunately, I didn't have to.

The kid ran out of the house to me while I was walking up the path. Tears streaked his cheeks and he wrapped his chubby arms around my leg, clinging desperately like I was his last hope in the world. Possessed or not, I was a sucker for a crying child. I dropped carefully to a kneel and held the child by the shoulders, “It's okay,” I said softly, “I'm going to help you. What's wrong? Where's your mother?”

“Momma! Momma,” the boy pointed back towards the house and then burst into tears. The demon didn't seem to be inside of him any more, so it must have jumped ship into her. 

I couldn't take the boy inside with me, it was far too dangerous. If I had backup I'd have made him stay with them while I finished this alone. I brushed the tears from his cheeks gently with my thumbs and said, “I need you to go to your neighbour's house, can you do that for me? You go over there and stay with them until I come to take you home.”

The boy nodded and ran. It had to be pretty bad if he was willing to run from his own mother like that. With each step I took towards the front door the butterflies inside of my stomach became more and more frenzied. I didn't know that I was doing the right thing, but it was too late to turn back now. Whatever was going on wasn't going to wait for us. I had to put an end to it before anyone else got hurt.

I had some idea of what I might expect upon entering the house, and I didn’t think it was going to be pretty. Demons were never all that subtle. I steeled my nerves and kept my back to the walls, knowing full well that there may be more than one waiting on me, that this could all be some kind of a trap.

The living room was in chaos. Furniture had been broken and flung into the walls. The glass coffee table was in pieces, and Mrs. Harrison was tied securely to a dining chair in the middle of it all. Her captors were nowhere to be seen. On the surface it appeared they’d tortured her until she lost consciousness, and then simply moved on. Something in my gut told me this was not as it appeared. Still, I didn’t want to leave her like that, and hurried to unfasten her bonds before I was confronted by whoever had left her in such a state.

“Hey, are you awake?” I asked when she stirred, “Come on, we have to get you out of here.”

Her head lolled forwards and I groaned softly. I wasn’t going to be able to carry her out and defend us both should the need arise. Maybe it would have been better to bring the others along. Then again, they had been all for waiting. By the time they’d decided to act, there was a good chance there wouldn’t be anyone left to save.

The front door clicked and I froze. Light footsteps tentatively approached, and in the doorway the little boy appeared. I let out a sigh that was all at once relieved and frustrated. Okay so it wasn’t a demon, but it was another person I was going to have to potentially take a bullet for. His eyes widened when he saw his mother, and he scurried over to us whereupon he clung to my leg again and trembled against me.

“It’s okay,” I assured him in a whisper, “No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

“I know,” there was something about his voice I didn’t like. The waver of fear was gone, and it was so clear and confident one might have mistaken it for the tone of an adult. I felt the white hot pain of the knife in my thigh before I saw it. He’d stabbed me! I forced him away so he staggered and fell onto his backside, then clasped a hand over the wound as it began to bleed profusely through my fingers. The boy laughed, a cold and cruel noise, and his eyes became pure black.

“You won’t hurt me,” he told me as I reached for my gun, “If you shoot then you’ll kill the boy.”

Sometimes it was easy to forget there was a human being trapped inside their own bodies during a possession. The urge to hang my morals was overwhelming, but I just couldn’t bring myself to kill a child. Damned demons! I swore under my breath and sank to a crouch, finding it difficult to stem the tide of blood while I was putting weight on that leg. The boy came closer and brushed my cheek with his tiny fingers, “I was hoping to catch a Winchester, not a mongrel like you.”

“Yeah well, that’s life,” I snarled back through gritted teeth, “You might know that if you were out of diapers.”

The child slapped me across the cheek with impossible strength. I struck the floor hard, debris from the glass table slicing through my shirt and sinking into my arm. I winced and clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the feeling as best I could. The demon picked up its knife and drew it down across the woman’s neck in a swift, clean motion. She gasped and gurgled, gulping in air uselessly as she bled out onto the floor. Her eyes were wide with fear, fixed on the face of her son before they became glassy and devoid of life.

“You little basta –” I began and was struck again. Child be damned, I wasn’t going to let anyone push me around like this. I brought my hand up in swift motion and hit the demon hard across the face. God I hoped a neighbour didn’t walk in on this. The demon didn’t fall, they barely even flinched. In fact they smiled, then laughed. It was so creepy to hear that sound from a child.

“I thought,” a voice said from the door, “I could trust you with this job.”

The laughter quickly died. The man watching the pair of us had a British accent and wore a professionally tailored suit. He fiddled with his cuff absently, an air on nonchalance about him as if he’d walked in on the most mundane scene in the world. The demon gave him his full attention, and in a simpering voice explained, “I set the trap just as you said, and the Winchesters came, they did! But then this,” he motioned to me, “Walked in instead.”

“And you didn’t think you should just turn her away at the door?” he asked before he shouted furiously, “Did you really think a second rate hunter like her would be as useful as a Winchester?!”

“No – I mean – yes, but I – they were with her, if we use her as bait to –”

“Enough!” the man snarled and waved a hand toward the child. Black smoke spewed from the boy’s mouth as the demon was expelled. The man hadn’t needed to utter a single incantation; he had exorcised the beast by his will alone. I’d never seen a demon do that before. The boy dropped to the floor, alive but unconscious, and now an orphan.

We were essentially alone, and the silence hung in the air between us, tense and strained. Inside I wondered if I could get a shot in at this demon, and if that would even do any good. His presence alone was oppressive, intimidating, terrifying. My breath caught at the back of my throat and my mind raced through everything I knew about finding the best escape routes, how to disarm an enemy, the weaknesses of demons. The more I thought of it, the more I realised I was in a fairly fatal situation.

“I know you,” the demon told me in a light, conversational tone. It was like he didn't see the destruction around us, or the blood which carelessly spewed from my injuries, “There's something in your blood, something familiar...”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

The man's mouth twitched into a satisfied smile, “Pendle, am I right? The Redferne family.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Oh, I think you have,” he strolled over the broken glass and knelt in front of me. The man took my chin between his thumb and the crook of his forefinger in order to turn my head to a better angle, “There's definitely a witch in you... Something else too, from the looks of it...”

I grimaced as he pulled my hand from my thigh and ran his tongue over my palm. I was tempted to stab him just for the satisfaction it would provide. He wouldn't feel it, but I'd enjoy it. The man ran his tongue over his teeth and inhaled slowly through his nose, like some snob tasting a fine wine. After a short nod he said, “Skin walker, interesting.”

“Take your damn hands off me!” I snarled.

He tutted like I was some precocious child having a tantrum and said, “I heard about a skin walker who turned hunter, you know? Met a sweet little witch, had a daughter,” he leaned in close and whispered, “And I heard she went missing after a very nasty murder...”

“If you're going to kill me could you hurry it up?” I seethed, “Because your voice is really starting to grate on me.”

“Oh no, pet, I'm not going to kill you. I wouldn't have any fun with that,” he smirked, “Well, I probably will kill you, but not just yet. See, if you were here with the Winchesters, then that must mean you're a friend of theirs.”

“Hah, you have no idea.”

“Maybe not, but they are stupidly loyal to other hunters, and I think you might be useful.”

“So what, I'm a hostage now?” I asked, “Bite me, black eyes. I don't do the damsel in distress act.”

“I didn't say anything about being a hostage,” he sneered, “But I figure you don't want them to know what happened to your step father. Because, in the end they're hunters, and you are a monster.”

It was true, I didn't want them to know. It wasn't because they'd kill me. In fact, I probably deserved to die after what I'd done. I just didn't want to see the look on Bobby's face when he realised that the sweet little girl who had fallen asleep listening to him reading stories about monster lore was a monster herself. He didn't care about the blood that I had in my veins, but my actions spoke volumes about the darkness bubbling away inside of me.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice trembling in my rage. I didn't think it was possible for me to hate myself any more than I did already, but clearly I'd been wrong.

“I want you to stay nice and close to those boys,” his mouth brushed against my ear as he whispered the words, “The name's Crowley, and when I call on you, you'll come running.”


	5. Five

“Crowley,” Castiel said from the door, “What are you doing here?”

Dean, Sam and Bobby weren't far behind him. Armed to the teeth, the trio of hunters surveyed the wreckage of the room before their eyes fell upon the back of the demon. This must have been what Dean had meant by working with monsters. They knew the demon by name, well enough that they were willing ask questions first and shoot later.

“Are you going to shoot me, Dean?” Crowley asked. Slowly he got to his feet and turned to face them, leaving me trembling in pain on the ground like the pathetic mess that I was, “That wouldn't be very charitable given I just saved your friend here.”

“You what?” Dean asked, scepticism etched into every line of his face.

“Yeah, you what?” I echoed.

“Saved your friend,” Crowley was an accomplished liar, “One of my employees went rogue and caught your pup by surprise. It's a good thing I was in the neighbourhood, or she'd be demon chow by now.”

“Can we stop with the dog puns, please?” I asked.

“No can do, Fido,” Crowley flashed a dashing smile at me before giving his attention back to the hunters, “This one's on the house, boys.”

“Liar,” Sam accused, “There's always a price with you, Crowley. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, ask her yourself.”

Bastard. He was going to tell them my secret if I ratted him out. The words tasted like a poison as they rolled over my tongue and I spat the bitter lies, “It's true, a demon was inside the child, he removed it before it could kill me.”

“Get lost, Crowley,” Dean snarled.

“Ouch, Dean,” the demon pouted, “Not even a thank you?”

“Get lost or I'm going to blast two barrels full of thank you into your chest.”

“Promises, promises,” Crowley turned back to me and winked, “I'm sure I'll see you again.”

“The hell you will,” Bobby growled, “You come near that girl again and I'll drag you back to Hell myself.”

The demon laughed and strolled leisurely toward the door. Before he left, he patted Bobby on the shoulder and in a carrying whisper he warned, “Don't pick up too many strays, sometimes you can't train the animal out of them.”

If I hadn't been about to lose consciousness from blood loss I'd have beaten the damn animal out of him! It was Castiel who came to my side. He cast a glance over my injuries before he pressed two fingers to my forehead. It felt like my insides were on fire. It lasted barely a few seconds but it was the most intense burning I'd ever known. When it was over I felt refreshed, and my injuries were healed. Barely able to believe my eyes I grabbed at my thigh expecting it to start gushing again, only to find that it felt just as it had when I walked into the house.

“Thanks,” I gasped, unable to express my gratitude in stronger words for my astonishment.

“You're welcome,” for a moment I thought a ghost of a smiled passed over his face, something remotely human lurking behind the angelic facade. It suited him, not that I was going to tell him so. I gathered my strength and clambered to my feet. When I thought I was going to stumble I reached out for something and found the hand of an angel waiting to steady me. He must have done so involuntarily, because he quickly let me go again.

“What exactly happened here?” Dean asked while Sam checked on the child who lay all but forgotten on the floor.

“Just like your friend said,” I retorted, “Why are you on first name terms with a demon?”

“It's a long story,” Bobby assured me, “And this is exactly why you shouldn't have gone chargin' in here on your own. What if you'd been killed?”

“World would be short one monster.”

“Cram it, Dean!” Bobby snapped at the hunter.

“No,” I held up my hands, “He's right, Bobby. I'm not human, I'm just – I'm not one of you.”

I didn't mean to sound like I was spiralling into some pointless chasm of self pity, but it was what it was. I could dress it up and walk around saying I was a hunter, but I'd always known one day I would be the prey. In fact, I already was. It was an awkward silence, and that kind of made it worse, because no one was willing to step up and tell me a comforting lie just to make me feel better. I supposed I should have been grateful for that. Sugar coating never improved anything. Except doughnuts.

Softly, I cleared my throat and dusted myself off. I didn't want to be Crowley's lap dog, I wanted to be my own woman, and I wanted out of this damn town. It was better for all of us. I didn't know what he would make me do to them, and these people had lost enough friends and family members to last a lifetime. I saw the way Bobby looked at Sam and Dean, like he was watching over his own sons. He had thought of me as family once, but there was too much time and distance between us now. Given the choice, he'd take them over me. And he'd be right to do so.

“Evelyn, what did Crowley say to you?” Bobby might have been getting on in years but he was sharp as ever.

“Nothing,” I lied, “Whatever was going on here is over, so it's time for me to move on. I'll get my stuff while you're dealing with the kid, okay?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Dean warned, “Cas', take her back to Bobby's. Don't let her out of your sight.”

“Understood.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and then we were in Bobby's living room. 

This Castiel guy must have saved a small fortune on gasoline.

“Look I know Dean said to – what are you doing?” I asked when I saw how intently the man was staring at me. He had absolutely no concept of personal space. Any closer and I'd have been able to feel his warm breath on my face.

Castiel looked me up and down, then took a step back, “I was watching you.”

“I noticed.”

“Dean says I have an issue with personal space.”

“I noticed that, too,” I laughed nervously and went to collect my bag from the sofa, “And I noticed that you like doing what Dean tells you to, but this time you're going to have to break his orders.”

“I can't do that.”

“You probably can if you try really, really hard.”

“No,” Castiel put his hand on my shoulder and forced me to sit on the couch, “I can't. You need to be watched.”

“Because I'm dangerous?”

“Because you're scared.”

I blinked. I was what? Scared? Well, yes, but why did that matter to an angel who wanted to kill me a couple of hours ago? I opened my mouth stupidly, and then closed it again. What was I supposed to say to that? Lies came to mind, I could deny every ounce of fear plaguing my soul every moment of every day. I could pretend that I didn't care if I lived or died, that it didn't frighten me that a hunter might one day kill me and then tell stories about their triumph over a creature like me. And I could pretend that I wasn't afraid that one day I'd succumb to the beast which slumbered away inside, just waiting for a chance to crawl out from the depths and take the life of another human. 

I could pretend that the rush of the kill had meant nothing to me.

“Who was he?” Castiel asked, “The man that you killed.”

“How did you –”

“I saw it when I healed you,” he told me, “That memory seems to be one which plays at the forefront of your mind. The man who killed your mother, and who you killed in turn.”

“Please,” my voice wavered and tears stung at the corners of my eyes as I fought to keep them at bay, “Don't tell Bobby.”

“You think he wouldn't understand?”

“No,” I shook my head, “It's not that.”

“Then, you think that he'd be conflicted? That he would want to hunt you?”

Again, I shook my head. I twisted my hands uneasily in my lap, “I think he'd be ashamed of me. I think that – I think that he'd forgive me, but he would look at me differently. Like he'd always be afraid that one day he'd have to kill me before someone else can.”

Castiel nodded silently. In my desperation I reached out and clutched his hands in mine. My fingers shook, and I looked up into his ocean blue eyes to beg, “Don't tell them?”

“I won't,” he promised, “Because you need to.”


	6. Six

Castiel was not a man easily won over. As much as I begged, bargained and threatened, he didn’t budge in his resolve to have me face the truth I was so determined to run from. When Sam, Dean and Bobby returned I was at the dining table in the kitchen, my head in my hands and my shoulders hunched. There was no way I could explain the truth of what had happened without bringing more havoc and danger down upon them. What Castiel had seen in my head had only been a short chapter of my story. A mere glimpse into the past I refused to turn back to look upon. There was so much more to this than they could fathom. I was well and truly in over my head.

The door swung back on its hinges as the hunters crossed the threshold. It nestled back into its frame snugly, sealing us all in the claustrophobic little house, creating a prison I couldn’t hope to get out of without first confessing my sins.

“Well, ain’t you a cheerful pair,” Bobby observed while he dumped his guns and ammo on the desk, “Broodin’ ain’t gonna’ change what just happened, you know?”

“Kid’s fine,” Sam clapped his large hand on my shoulder, mistaking my misery for concern, “As fine as he can be, anyway. He’s at the hospital, and he has relatives coming to collect him. ”

“Hey,” Dean snapped at me from across the room, “We just cleared up your mess and saved your sorry ass, the least you could do is show a little gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” I asked bitterly, “You want me to be grateful that you let me go in there alone in the first place? Or would you rather I fell over myself thanking you for sending me back here with a prison guard?!”

“I was watching, not guarding,” Castiel corrected.

To me, it was all the same. Either way he had prevented my escape. I could have spared them from what was about to happen, but Castiel was too stuck in his righteous angelic ways to allow it. Under my piercing glare he turned away, taking refuge at Dean’s side rather than be a target of my frustrations.

“I think Evelyn has something to tell you, Bobby.”

“No, I don’t,” I stubbornly denied.

The brothers exchanged curious glances. It was Sam who said, “Whatever it is, we can probably help.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” I eyed the gun Dean was cradling in his hands, knowing full well he was still looking for an excuse to blast a couple of shells into my face. His eyes narrowed pointedly, I could tell he was scrutinising me in order to discern my meaning.

“I promised not to tell them only if you did so,” Castiel reminded me, “If you can’t be forthcoming with the truth, I will impart that information myself.”

“Don’t,” I warned.

“You’re leaving me little choice, Evelyn.”

Dean looked Castiel up and down briefly and said, “You two were only alone for like an hour, what did you do to her to get her life story?”

“I asked.”

“And read my mind,” I corrected.

“That was when I healed you, and you were hardly hiding the information.”

Bobby made an exasperated noise and demanded, “Tell me what the sam-hell is going on here before I start crackin’ heads!”

“Evelyn murdered her step-father,” Castiel said it as conversationally as he might were he discussing a particularly disappointing weather forecast.

“Cas’!” I exclaimed, hardly able to believe he’d just come out with it. Didn’t he have any social skills?

Dean actually raised the gun and aimed it at my head, “Start talking or I start shooting.”

“She might have a reasonable explanation,” Sam defended me, putting himself between the pair of us, “At least let’s hear her out.”

“Yeah well, explain quickly,” Dean threatened, “Because I ain’t going to give you a head start if I have to hunt you.”

“Dean,” Castiel put his hand on the gun and eased the barrel down slowly, “It was an act of self-defence.”

“Was he human?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded.

Dean scoffed, “Then how was he a threat to a freak like her?”

“He tried to shoot me,” I snarled from behind Sam, “Because he saw me change into a dog. But he missed, and he hit my mother, so when he reloaded I ripped his throat out.”

“Oh,” Dean looked down at the gun as if considering finishing me off anyway. His conscience got the better of him and he unloaded the weapon before he set it down on the table, “Well, I don’t like it, but I don’t know that I would call that murder.”

“Is that it?” Bobby asked.

At first I thought maybe he was belittling the situation, trying to make out that it wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Bobby was a sharp man, and I quickly noticed the way he was looking at me, as if he didn't have a lot of faith my story was the whole truth.

“Yes,” I replied too quickly. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep an expression of determination and honesty all at once.

“I know that look,” he said, “It's the same look those idjits give me whenever they're lyin' about the mess they've made. So, tell me, what else is goin' on here?”

I couldn't answer that. Thankfully, I didn't need to. Though it wasn't much of a mercy when we heard the howl of a dog outside in the yard. I knew that sound, and it sent a chill down through my spine. I indicated that the others ought to stay still, and cautiously crept to a nearby window.

They crept out from behind car bumpers, dusty and unkempt, the pack of wild dogs I'd found as a teen. When I had first run with them during my rebellious couple of years they had been a small group, now they numbered almost twenty. Some hadn't arrived on four paws. The man at the head of the pack took a light inhale of the air, then his head snapped in my direction. I hit the floor so fast I might have broken a hip.

“Eviiiiiiiie,” he called toward the house. He raised a crowbar above his head before he brought it down onto the hood of a nearby car so hard it all but collapsed in on itself, “EVIE! I know you're in there! Come on out, you little bitch!”

“Friends of yours?” Dean hissed over.

“I er – I made some bad choices when I was a kid, I'm not proud of it,” I explained weakly, “He's sort of my ex...”

“You dated that guy?” Bobby peered out at the group and gave me a look of disgust, “He's got a pony tail.”

“You used to have a pony –”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Don't make me come in there, Evelyn!” he called from outside again, “I'm not afraid to sink my teeth into a few yanks!”

“I don't like this guy,” Dean picked his gun back up, “Let's see if he's still feeling chatty after I blow a hole in his skull.”

“I appreciate the sudden show of loyalty,” I smiled, but in my stomach I felt a swirling of nausea and despair, “But he's here for me, and I should go out alone.”

“I don't think that would accomplish anything,” Castiel said, “If we are witness to your murder, it makes sense that he would kill us too. Well,” he motioned to the others, “Them. He couldn't kill me.”

“Colour me reassured,” I joked, “But seriously, you should arm yourselves and stay in the house. If they make it through the door it'll be one at a time and you can pick them off. If you go outside to them, they'll be able to take advantage of the blind spots behind the cars and ambush you.”

“Huh,” Dean looked me up and down with something like renewed faith.

“What?”

“Nothin',” he shook his head a little, “You just sounded like a hunter instead of some whiney teenager.”

“... I still don't like you all that much.”

“I know.”

“Guys, can we figure out what to do about Oliver and Company outside?” Sam asked, “They're weak to silver, right? Bobby, you got any silver rounds lying around?”

“In the basement,” he took off out of the room before I could stop him.

I shook my head and gathered myself from the floor, “This isn't up for discussion,” I told the three men, “I'm going to go out there and give them what they want, and you're going to stay out of it.”

“You obviously don't know the Winchesters as I do,” Castiel placed one of his large hands on the top of my head. I felt his fingers as they brushed against my untidy hair, warm and comforting, and steady as a rock. I was shaking all over, how could he be so calm?

“I guess not, but I'm starting to wish I had the time to,” I gently removed that large palm and gave it a reassuring squeeze before I released it, “Sorry, angel boy. See that I get a nice halo when you find me in Heaven.”

“You'll go to purgatory, actually,” he said.

“This is one of the few times where sugar coating is encouraged.”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. It was left to Dean to explain, “You're meant to lie to make her feel better, Cas'.”

“Oh,” the angel forced a smile, “You'll go to Heaven, for certain.”

“Nice try, feathers,” I winked at the brothers, “I'll see you on the other side.”

“Evelyn,” Sam stepped forwards, “You don't have to do this alone anymore. Let us help you.”

I shook my head firmly, “No can do. Just – just tell Bobby I said goodbye, and that I'm sorry.”

Resolved, I opened the front door. The man smiled and gave me a long, appreciative look up and down, “Well well, you grew a backbone.”

“And you grew some balls,” I retorted, “Amazing what a time can do for a person, isn't it, James?”

He laughed softly and scratched at the scrub of stubble growing in around his jaw, “I forgot how hilarious you were.”

“Really? I can't forget how much of a joke you are.”

“That's enough banter, whore,” James bit back, “Your stupidity brought those hunters down on us, they reduced our pack to almost nothing!”

“And yet they let you live, you must have seemed about as intimidating as a chihuahua.”

“I destroyed those miserable humans! And I will do the same to you – I will tear the flesh from your body with my own teeth!”

“I'd really like to see you try,” I challenged, eyes narrowed, daring him to come at me and knowing I had little to lose save my miserable life.

The transformation process of a skin walker was painful and, frankly, disturbing to watch. In seconds James shifted from two legs to four, the man disappeared, and now replaced with the hulking form of a Rottweiler. It salivated and snarled, muscles rippling beneath it's short haired pelt as it poised to strike. I was barely half way through my own change when he launched himself towards me. We rolled across the gravel together, his jaws snapping for my throat while I kicked my hind legs into his stomach. I tore at his chest with my front paws, my claws sharp from lack of use, not as worn down as they might have been if I'd been inclined to walk long distances on asphalt roads as these beasts must have. He might have had a weight advantage, but my German Shepard muzzle had better reach, and I sank my teeth into his cheek and ripped viciously at his face. 

James yelped and backed off, shaking his head to rid himself of the pain before he came back at me. And he wasn't alone. Dogs were loyal, particularly to their alpha. This was never going to be a fair fight. These creatures had lost friends because of me, maybe even their own pups. They were determined to have their pound of flesh, and they wanted to take it from my hide themselves.


	7. Seven

I lost all sense of direction and time while the dogs bore down upon me. They clawed, bit and tore into my fur and flesh. Relentlessly they attacked, sinking their teeth into any part of my body they could get hold of. I snarled through the pain and struck out at anyone I could. I’d made the decision to take on this pack alone, and I knew that in doing so I had signed my own death warrant.

My movements were becoming sluggish, my thrashing lessening as the blood loss and pain drove through the rush of adrenalin I had felt at first. I wasn’t invincible or immortal, I was just another mutt, and I certainly didn’t hold an advantage over any of the others.

Well, I had one. Technically, four, but I would rather they respected my wishes and stay where it was safe. But the Winchesters made a living out of breaking the rules. A bang was followed by a high pitched yelp. Realising they were under attack, the pile fell apart and the dogs spread out, some retreating to find shelter, others directing their barks of fury at these strangers. Determined not to appear weak in front of my fellow hunters, I forced myself back to my feet. My legs shook beneath me, barely able to support my meagre weight, but my defiance in the face my enemy was clear. James would not take me down so easily, not while I had breath in my body.

“Go chase your tail, furball,” Dean snapped, “Or I’m going to pump your sorry hide full of silver.”

“Just shoot him, Dean,” Bobby ordered, “Damn mutt doesn’t deserve to live.”

James wasn’t the type to back down from a fight, even if his opponent was armed. The black dog took off towards Dean who fired a round into his shoulder. James hit the ground hard, the silver poisoning his body and slowly killing him. Rather than scaring off the rest of the pack, the fall of James spurred the others to strike. They rushed toward us as a group. Bobby, Dean and Sam fired rapidly into the fray, killing some and wounding others. But it was impossible to get them all. The first to approach went straight for Dean who was trying to reload. I pushed off from the ground with my hind legs and caught the beast mid leap, tackling him back down and shredding his throat. It didn’t take the dog a lot of effort to get the upper hand – er – paw. When he did, Dean shot him through the back of the head, and his body slumped uselessly to the ground.  
I barked softly once at Dean who replied, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” before he turned his attention back to the others.

Castiel wasn’t inclined to join in with the trigger happy trio. He had a silver knife, one he twisted and turned expertly, slashing through the mongrels which came snapping at his heels before they could so much as scratch him. I staggered back towards the group where I would have a little cover. That was when I felt the white hot pain in my side and let out a long, high pitched yelp of agony. The teeth brushed through my coarse fur and into my shoulder. With the weight of the Pit-Bull pressing in on my side I collapsed to the ground. My legs were longer than hers, and I kicked all four paws against her in a feeble attempt to dislodge her. She latched on even harder, so much so that the shock forced me to shift back into my human form, whereupon my yowls became cries and shrieks of pain. Without a thick pelt to protect me I felt vulnerable and exposed. Not to mention I had lost my clothes in my initial transformation.

“Evelyn!” Bobby called out. The other dogs weren’t all animal, they understood the panicked tone of the hunter, and that I was the one he had called to. Several turned their attentions to me and didn’t hesitate in taking advantage of my moment of weakness. They pounced on my back, my legs, and tore at my arms.

I was on the brink of consciousness, teetering on the edge of darkness when the next round of shots sailed through the air. Some of the pack was blasted clean off me, others decided to cut and run. It was Castiel who stepped in to dispose of the really determined canines.

Finally, it was over.

The onslaught had been brutal, and only Castiel seemed totally unscathed. Bobby, Dean and Sam had their fair share of bites, but they would live. I, on the other hand, was feeling rather more sceptical about my chances of survival. Although I couldn’t see to survey the damage, I got the feeling it had to be pretty horrific, because I couldn’t move at all. Castiel knelt at my side and brushed my hair from my face. He winced as if he could feel and understand my pain just by looking at me. For an angel to feel such empathy, well, it definitely wasn’t good.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured me, then pressed his fingers against my forehead. It wasn’t as swift a healing as when I’d been facing the demons. It must have been exhausting for him to have to exercise those kinds of powers twice in one day. When he finished, he let out a long sigh, and shrugged off his trench coat. The fabric brushed against my back delicately as he laid it over me. Castiel eased me into his arms, wrapping me up preciously in his coat, and cradling me to his chest. A stubborn part of me wanted to tell him that I was capable of walking back into the house, but I was too exhausted to fight him off.

“She gonna’ be okay?” Bobby asked. Castiel gave a short nod before he continued on into the house. Behind us, Dean was the one who stooped to pick up my pile of clothes from the ground, while Sam and Bobby surveyed the carnage. James should have known better than to set his pack on three highly trained hunters, but his anger had driven him to act rashly. Not that I had any place to judge, I had been all too keen to sacrifice myself to atone for my sins.

“Cas’,” I said once we were inside. The angel had sat on the nearby sofa and kept me in his lap. He stared ahead somewhat blankly as if he was unsure of what to do with me now I was safe. I cleared my throat and asked, “Do you want to let me go now?”

“She’s not a puppy,” Dean told his friend and held the bundle of clothes out to me, “You should go and put these on. And you know,” he looked away as a blush touched his cheeks, “Thanks for savin’ my ass out there.”

“Pretty sure you guys returned the favour ten-fold already,” I smiled, “But you’re welcome.”

“Don’t mention it. Literally, never mention this again.”

“Dean isn’t so good with gratitude,” Castiel advised.

“Cram it, Cas’.”

“So,” Sam nodded once, “That’s it now, right?”

“What’s it?” I asked, perplexed.

“The pack is dead, no one else is after you.”

Oh, that. Well, no point in spoiling their day any more than I had already. I nodded once and smiled. If Bobby saw through the lie he didn’t say anything. Maybe he did know there was more to this than he understood, but he’d rather deny his gut feeling for the sake of a quiet life. Or as quiet a life as a hunter could have.

“This doesn’t make us friends, you know that, right?” Dean said, “I mean I need like beers, and pie, before I consider anyone even close to being a friend.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that,” he nodded and pulled me out of Castiel’s lap. I stumbled into Dean’s chest whereupon he placed his hands on my shoulders and aided me in staying upright, “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” I nodded quickly, “Just weird going from four legs to two.”

“I’d have thought the other way round was stranger,” Sam chuckled.

“Weirdly, no,” I shrugged, “I mean, we all crawl before we walk, right?”

“So why don’t you just stay a mutt the whole time?” Dean asked, “Runnin’ around livin’ the dogs life, that’s gotta be better than being a hunter.”

“Cars,” I said simply.

“Cars?”

“Dean, don’t,” Bobby warned.

“No, it’s okay,” I assured him and explained to Dean, “My father was on a hunt, my real father, and he got hit by a car when he was in his canine form. The driver didn’t stop or slow down or anything, he just left him to die in the middle of the road. Just another mutt, you know?”

Dean made a face like I had just punched him in the gut. He chewed his bottom lip lightly before apologising, “Sorry, I didn’t really think about that.”

“Most people don’t,” it wasn’t like I blamed all humans for assuming there was nothing amiss when they hit an animal. Most of them wouldn’t believe in a skin walker even if they saw the change with their own eyes, so even fewer would take a moment to wonder if the stray under their wheels was actually a man. To spare the others any more misplaced feelings of guilt I said, “I’m going to go take a shower. I have a lot of dog drool on me.”

“Yeah uh – yeah, you do that,” Dean turned from me and headed to the fridge for a beer. Sam gave an encouraging smile but what had just happened must have shaken him. Outside the skin walkers would be shifting back to their human forms, and bodies would be littering Bobby’s yard. They were going to have a lot of graves to dig, and plenty of blood to hose down.

“I’ll give the coat back,” I told Castiel, “You know, after the shower.”

“I assure you, there’s no rush.”

“No but – well – just, thanks,” I wasn’t sure how to talk to the guy now. I had just covered his very light coloured coat in blood, after being naked under it, and he had seen me practically torn apart, and naked. That was a lot of naked. And yet it hadn’t phased him, at least not that I could tell.

Angels were weird.


	8. Eight

Once the bathroom door was closed I dropped the coat to the floor. Along with it, I dropped the brave expression I'd been wearing. They might have tried to kill me, but for a time those skin walkers had been my family. When I wanted to break away from my mundane, ordinary life I had found freedom with them. It was the first time since my father had died that I had felt connected to him, being able to run with a pack and give in to my canine nature was to tap into a part of myself I had to keep otherwise hidden. My dad had never tried to make me be something I wasn't. Mum had wanted to be a good girl, and to act like everyone else. I had resented it at the time. Now I understood that she was trying to keep me safe.

But it was too late now.

I'd ruined everything.

The sound of water streaming from the shower head and beating down into the bath below masked my sobs. As hard as I gritted my teeth, as furiously as I pounded my fist against the wall to distract myself from the emotional agony twisting inside of me, I could do nothing to stem the tide of tears. This was the only time I would be able to let it out. If my mask slipped in front of Bobby or the others then they'd know just how deep my despair ran, and they'd also realise that they hadn't saved me at all.

The almost scalding jets worked their magic in easing the tension in my knotted muscles. I watched as the drain greedily gulped down the filthy water which ran dark with grime from the yard and blood. I didn't know how much of it was mine, probably most of it. If Castiel hadn't been so quick to heal me I'd have certainly died. I might have been trying to think of a way to repay him if I thought he might appreciate the gesture. He didn't really seem the type. The man wasn't cold, but he was very blunt and almost disinterested in the little things in life and society. I sniffled miserably and pushed my fingers through my hair, massaging at my scalp and feeling the grind and grit of gravel as I worked it out of the tangled strands.

I closed my eyes, willing the images of the fight away, trying to forget how it felt to tear through flesh with my teeth. The coppery tang of blood I could still taste on my tongue made my stomach churn uncomfortably. Spiritual freedom was one thing, uncontrollable instincts were another. I had been practically rabid once I was in the fray. I had gone out of this house to die, and my survival instincts had taken over instead. I should have just stayed in my human form, refused to let James bait me into a confrontation.

I should have taken my own life and spared the others from the wrath of hunters.

Heavily, I dropped to a sitting position under the water and hugged my knees to my chest. How did Bobby still see the good in me? How had Dean and Sam found enough humanity in my person that they were willing to put their safety at risk to protect me? Even I thought I was a monster. I was so beyond redemption that many of the beasts I had killed on this world hunting tour of mine were saints by comparison. I was a hypocrite, and a coward. If I really valued any of the people downstairs, I would tell them about Crowley and his plans to use me as some kind of a spy or something for him. 

Actually, I wasn't all that sure that was what he wanted me for.

He'd said something about witches. My mother wasn't exactly forthcoming about her family history. I'd always thought she didn't know all that much, but maybe we just shared a bond in dishonesty. If I could find out about the Pendle witches, then maybe I could be one step ahead of the demon, I might be able to repay the Winchesters after all. I wasn't sure I could be totally open with them about why I wanted to research trials from the seventeenth century. Yes, I had heard of the Pendle witches before, and the name Redferne. In our family home there were a lot of books on witchcraft, all carefully sealed away where my step-father wouldn't happen across them. Of course, I was smarter than him, and I'd always known what my mother was. I also knew how predictable her hiding places were, and pulling up a few floorboards had never been all that difficult for me.

I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. When I turned around I saw a figure and started to scream, but they clamped a hand over my mouth before I made it to a pitch which might draw attention.

“Shhh,” Crowley tutted softly, “I didn't think you'd be so weak to a pair of big blue eyes. Just how many minutes did it take for you to cave in to that feathered twit?” I growled at the back of my throat. As if I wasn't having a bad enough day already, this joker kept turning up. Slowly he drew back his hand and gave me an appreciative look, “I suddenly feel overdressed.”

“Shut up,” I snarled and snatched up a towel. When it was securely wrapped around me I shrank back against the wall.

“Oh, darling,” he smirked and touched his thumb against his bottom lip, “It's nothing I haven't seen before. Although, I do enjoy a change of scenery now and again...”

“What do you want, demon?”

“I have a few ideas, but I don't think you meant those.”

Why didn't Bobby have weapons in the bathroom? I'd have killed for a gun right now. Even if it wouldn't kill this demon, I wouldn't mind landing a bullet between his eyes. The drops of water clinging to my body were beginning to cool, and I shivered as they ran icy rivers down over my skin.

Crowley came in close, he pressed one hand to the wall beside my head, and with the other he brushed a few of those pesky droplets from my bare shoulder. I flinched involuntarily, even the slightest touch of his skin on mine make the nausea roll in a tumultuous swell at the pit of my stomach. His smile was unwavering, and he purred, “I don't think you realise just how long I have been searching for you.”

“What?”

“You really have no idea about what you are, do you?” he chuckled softly, vastly amused by this great master plan that I was in ignorance of. With a soft sigh he leaned in close and brushed his nose against my cheek. In a gentle whisper he told me, “You, and your mother before you, and her mother before her, are mine.”

“I don't belong to anyone,” I snapped furiously.

“You can deny it all you want, love, but it won't change anything. The deal we made was Earth shattering, and you have your ancestors to thank for it.”

“Get the hell away from me!”

“I'll leave,” he took a step back, “For now. But this is just the beginning of our beautiful new relationship. No matter where you run, or where you hide, you will never be rid of me.”

He vanished just as quickly as he'd appeared. Someone banged on the door and I damn near jumped out of my skin. Bobby called through, “Y'alright in there, Evelyn?”

“Fine,” I answered automatically, “I just – I'm fine, I'll be down in a minute.”

Bobby hesitated before he replied, “Okay, call if you need anythin'.”

I waited until I was sure he'd gone before I dried off and dressed myself. Crowley's words ran around in my brain in frustrating, senseless circles. What deal was he talking about? I'd never made a deal with any demon, and I didn't think my mother would do something so stupid. I couldn't speak for anyone before that. My mother was a runaway, someone who didn't want to follow in the family business, if that's what you could call curses and hexes. She wanted to be a white witch. There was a good chance that the further back you traced my blood line, the dirtier it got.

“Hey,” Sam greeted when I came down the stairs. He was leaning in the doorway, a book in hand, and not paying much attention to whatever the others might be talking about. I was glad that he was still able to smile at me, even with all the havoc I had caused in less than twenty-four hours. Was I really going to ruin this moment of peace and harmony with more bad news?

Yes. Yes I was.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“What's what?” 

“I know that look,” he shook his head, “That's the look Dean has whenever he's trying to protect me from something, and planning on doing something stupid on his own.”

It's no wonder Dean didn't like me all that much, I must have reminded him of himself a little at times. I wasn't sure how best to say it. Mentioning Crowley's name wouldn't go down, especially not if they thought I had made a deal with him. I'd not promised him my soul, but I'd given my word, and that was bad enough in my opinion. The weight of the burden was pressing down on me so heavily that I felt like I was being crushed under it, like the air was being squeezed from my lungs. Sam approached me and laid one of his large hands on the top of my head. It was oddly comforting, like something an older brother would do. I didn't have siblings, but I hoped they'd be this supportive if I had.

“Whatever it is, there are people that can help.”

“I don't know if that's true.”

“If what's true?” Bobby asked, “What's goin' on?”

I chewed on my bottom lip before I dared to ask, “Have you guys heard of the Pendle witches?”

In true hunter fashion, the internet was the first port of call. Sam's laptop was in the kitchen where he tapped away on search engines to gather as much information as he could about the witch trials. I was perched on the edge of one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, under the scrutinising gaze of Dean whose trust in me was flickering on and off more than a faulty light. Bobby paced, his nose in a dusty book, apparently not quite so comfortable with using technology as Sam was. The angel in the room wasn't quite so on edge. He stood perfectly still, unnaturally so, and watched us as we struggled to control our human twitches and habits. The man was a rock, if he didn't blink occasionally I'd have thought he was a wax work or something.

“Got it,” Sam announced. He cleared his throat when Bobby came in to peer over his shoulder, “The Pendle witch trials happened in seventeenth century England following a string of murders in and around Lank-ah-shy-er.”

“It's pronounced Lan-ker-sher,” I corrected. I hadn't grown up in Lancashire, but I had visited there a couple of times.

“Really? Lessons in English?” Dean asked.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Sam scanned the page once more before he carried on like I hadn't said anything, “So some of the charges also included abduction and – oh – cannibalism.”

“Wow,” I wrinkled my nose, “That's disgusting.”

“Why are we looking into this again? You think one of these warty bitches is going to rise from the grave, hop a place, and eat us?” Dean asked in a derisive tone.

I tried to sound nonchalant when I asked, “Anything about the Redferne family in there?”

“Yeah, there was a witch called Anne Redferne, it was her married name. Oh man, her mother claimed to have given her soul away to a thing like a Christian man but Anne denied taking part in witchcraft. She was acquitted of a murder at first, but then was found guilty of making clay figures of a family,” Sam sat back in his chair, “Apparently they thought she was a more dangerous witch than her mother, and she was hung.”

“So... the family died out?” I asked hopefully.

“She had a daughter, Mary. There's nothing about her, she was probably too young to be tried as a witch or to practice.”

Perfect.

“Why exactly is this worth research?” Castiel asked, “What about these women is so interesting to you?”

“The demon – Crowley – he mentioned them to me,” I was picking my words carefully, “When he found me in the house he thought I was one of them, he said he recognised me.”

Bobby shrugged, “Your mom's bloodline is pretty obscure, there's a chance you're related.”

“You think – just maybe – that Crowley was the demon Anne's mom sold her soul to?” Dean asked, “He was a crossroads demon, he could have made a deal with her.”

“In exchange for what?” Sam asked, “She died, so did her daughter. What could have been worth giving up her soul for?”

“Well, we could always ask,” Castiel suggested.

I turned in my seat to face him and asked, “Come again?”

“Crowley, we'll summon him.”

“I've heard worse ideas,” Dean said, “Not many, but definitely a few.”

“You can't be serious! He's a demon!” I exclaimed.

“Evelyn, we ain't got a whole lot of choice,” Bobby lamented, “If you can't be honest with us about everythin' you know, and Crowley had somethin' on you, we're better off goin' to the source.”

“I don't know anything!” I countered, “What I know, you know, okay?! He mentioned the witches, and he said he would tell you about the thing with my pack unless I –”

“Unless you what?” Dean asked, his hand quickly finding his gun.

I rolled my eyes and conceded, “Unless I stayed close to you for – I don't know what – spying I assume. That was one of the reasons I was so keen to leave, to keep you out of whatever the hell this is. The whole demon thing was a trap for you two,” I looked to Sam for some kind of support but upon meeting that puppy-eye expression of his I could only say, “I'm sorry, I didn't know.”

“And you swear that you have no idea about the connection between you and these witches and Crowley?”

“Yes, Dean,” I glared, “I swear it, okay? I know that my mother was a witch, but as far as I can tell I'm more skin walker than anything else. I don't practice magic, I don't make hex bags, I just howl at the moon from time to time.”

“Well,” Dean stood up from his chair, “I guess we're makin' ourselves a summoning spell.”


	9. Nine

I would never get over how prepared Bobby Singer was for just about every situation. His basement had a panic room, which was amazing, but what we needed was the enormous devil trap on the floor. I kept my distance from it, leaning against the iron door and watching as the boys played chef, throwing all the spell ingredients into a bowl and chanting the summoning incantation over it.

“You seem uncomfortable with this,” Castiel observed as he came in close. The man didn't understand personal space at all. I let out a breath through my nose and shrugged. I couldn't say anything, it wasn't my place to. If it hadn't been for me then none of this would have to happen. With each passing moment I was coming to hate myself all the more, hate what I was, hate the genetics my mother had infected me with. Castiel gave my shoulder a squeeze and said, “We are, all of us, created in ways we cannot control. It is what we do with the things we are given that defines us. You are only a monster if you allow yourself to become one.”

“You called me an abomination,” I reminded him.

Castiel nodded once and rolled his shoulders lightly, “Yes, I have been meaning to apologise for that. Which I suppose I am doing now.”

“You're not doing a very good job of it.”

“No, I don't think I am.”

I snorted softly with laughter but the smell of sulfur which filled the room extinguished any humour I was inclined to feel. He appeared in the middle of the devils trap, still dressed in his immaculate suit, his smug self importance worn openly on his face, proudly displayed like some kind of trophy. He was above us, in his opinion, and he wasn't afraid to show it.

“A surprise party, for me? Boys, you shouldn't have,” he flirted with the hunters and then ran his tongue over his teeth. When his eyes met mine, Crowley said with disappointment, “Kitten, I really thought you would be better behaved than this. Running to tell tales? Not very grown up, is it?”

“Don't talk to her,” Castiel warned, “She isn't the one who summoned you.”

“Cas', I'm surprised,” Crowley retorted, “I mean, Moose and Squirrel here are fun, but Lady over there? She's not worth you sticking your wings into the firing line for.”

“I don't believe she's a member of the nobility.”

Apparently Disney references were as lost of Castiel as everything else was.

“Okay, that's enough flirting,” Dean snapped, “We are all having a really, really crappy day, and it's getting a whole lot crappier with you in it. Why exactly are you fixating on Evelyn?”

Crowley winked at me and said, “I just have a healthy curiosity.”

“Bull,” Bobby stepped into Crowley's eye line so he couldn't look directly at me and threatened, “You made a deal with one of the Pendle witches, what was it for?”

“I make a lot of deals, mate,” the demon shrugged, “Can't be expected to remember them all.”

“But you remember this one,” Castiel told him, “Why else would you come for her?”

“I can think of a few reasons. I saw a couple of them earlier today, in fact.”

“Hey!” I moved around Bobby and pointed an accusatory finger at Crowley, “You forget what you saw in that bathroom or so help me I'll –”

“What did he see in the bathroom?” Bobby asked, horrified.

“A very cute little tattoo,” Crowley winked, “Can't imagine you chaps will have the pleasure.”

“I say we just kill him now,” Dean raised his gun.

“Not gonna' argue with that,” Bobby growled.

Crowley held up his hands and took a half step back inside his painted prison. He clearly felt more inclined to be honest with a couple of guns trained on his head. The man took a deep breath before he admitted, “I met Anne and her dear, batty mother, in England. She wanted certain abilities and I wanted a soul, it was a fair trade.”

“But her mother died, and so did Anne,” Sam told the demon, “So, what, you broke the deal?”

“I never break a deal,” Crowley seemed angry at the insinuation, “It wasn't a regular deal, not the whole human soul for ten years of fame and fortune shtick we usually peddle. This was two souls, to be taken upon the day of their natural deaths, in exchange for the creation of one Mary Redferne.”

“Creation?” I asked. Crowley said nothing. The others looked at me like this wasn't the most telling part of the story, as if I was being petty for picking up on his misuse of the word. I didn't think I was being anything of the sort. It was the one word which concerned me in the whole story. The one thing that sounded really off. Undeterred by the disapproving looks they gave I pressed, “Why say creation and not birth?”

“Well, you definitely have your mother's brains. Your father was a rather unfortunate specimen, not my first choice, but it looks he didn't sully your blood too much,” he smiled, “Mary was birthed as a human, but there was no father.”

“Great, another demonspawn,” Dean interrupted.

“No,” Crowley was practically beaming with glee, “Something new, something better than that. But Mary was just the first, she was, I don't know, incomplete? I needed time to add a few more ingredients.”

“My head is starting to hurt,” Dean had begun to pace, Bobby was openly perplexed, and Sam's eyebrows were so deeply furrowed I thought they might knit into one at any moment. I couldn't blame them, I didn't know I was on the same page as Crowley at all. It felt like someone had skipped a chapter in a book. What the hell was he talking about?

“Impossible,” Castiel said finally, “It would never be allowed.”

“What wouldn't? Damn it, Cas, explain this to me in English!” Dean demanded.

“I – I am speaking in English,” Castiel shook his head, “A hybrid creature, the mixing of bloodlines over generations for centuries, selective breeding. In order to create –”

“An abomination?” I used Castiel's very words, “Is that why you called me that when you first saw me?”

“I sensed a mingling, yes,” he admitted, “But I didn't think it would go back so far, or be so muddied.”

“So, what, I'm part of your selective demon breeding programme? Like some prized poodle?” I asked Crowley furiously, “I'm just some twisted little experiment?!”

“There were some complications. Your grandmother escaped from us and went into hiding. When she had your mother without our supervision it could have ruined everything,” Crowley let out a low, short laugh, “Thankfully she went on to mingle with a skin walker, so we got back on track.”

“And that was your deal?” Sam asked, “The souls of two witches for an entire bloodline? Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like those witches got anything back from this, you were the only one who got what they wanted.”

“They wanted their family line to endure so they could take revenge on the humans who persecuted their kind,” Crowley snapped, “Anne got the child she wanted, and I got a blank canvas. A whole family I could shape and mould to my own personal design.”

“So you played cupid for monsters?” Dean asked.

“Seriously, I am right here, Dean,” I snarled at him, “Less of the monster if you don't mind.”

“Yeah – sorry – but come on! That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard, I mean, how much could you get into one person?!”

“Oh, let's see shall we?” Crowley began to count them off on his fingers, “Witch, skin walker, vampire, werewolf, djinn – that one was awkward, I can tell you – kitsune, demon, and just a dash of siren to keep you interesting.”

“I uh – I feel kind of sick,” I admitted and sank into a dusty old chair which creaked in protest of my using it.

“You're lyin',” Bobby said, “If she had all of that in her blood she'd be changin' every full moon, drinkin' down gallons of blood, sendin' people into hallucinations and eatin' hearts like they're twinkies!”

“Think colours, mate,” Crowley explained, “You put together red and blue, it makes something new. Things all get a little blurred, you see? We bred out the weaknesses, and kept in the strengths. No cravings, just one perfect little soldier.”

“Evelyn, go into the bunker,” Bobby ordered.

“Why?”

“Don't argue, girl, just do it.”

I hauled myself out of the chair, opened the bunker door, and stepped inside. I didn't bother to close it behind me, I had no intention of letting them keep me prisoner in there. Crowley was still smirking away, because my ability to walk into another room was somehow impressive. I got it before he had a chance to say it. Bobby seemed to as well, because he made that sad face which said more for his despair than words ever could. I nodded and voiced it for the sake of the others, “A demon can't enter this panic room, can they?”

“Iron walls covered in salt,” Bobby said, “Purpose built panic room.”

“Yeah but maybe he's just lying,” Sam argued, “Maybe there's no demon in her at all, or anything else for that matter! That's not a foolproof way of proving he's telling the truth.”

“I know one way we can test it,” Dean stalked over and pulled my arm out. He drew a knife over my skin before I realised what he intended to do. I cried out and jerked myself free of his grip. The cut began to bleed, but it didn't burn. I was a skin walker, a cut with a silver knife could have been fatal, so why hadn't it done anything more than give me a nasty injury?

“No,” I shook my head, “I am not accepting this!”

“Evelyn, take it easy,” Bobby tried to calm me.

“Take it easy?! How can I do that, Bobby? I'm some freaky experiment that he made as what, a pet?” I glared daggers into Crowley, “What is the point of me?!”

“The point, Kitten, is that I have a lot of enemies, and I need a versatile, loyal, soldier to rely on,” Crowley held out a hand, “So how about you be a dear and break this little trap for me, and you and I can be on our merry way?”

“I'd rather die.”

“Trust me, pet, if you stay here then these boys will soon see to that.”

“They wouldn't,” I felt less confident when I saw the torn looks on their faces and asked, “You – you wouldn't, right?”

“If there's a chance of you going dark side on us,” Dean's voice trailed off. He didn't have to finish the sentence, I knew exactly where he was going with that. If they thought I posed a greater threat to mankind, then I was going to have to go the way of every other monster in their paths.

Bobby pulled me in against his chest and clung to me tight, like the tighter the hug, the more he would be able to ground me. I held onto the back of his shirt and begged, “Bobby, please don't do this to me, I can't – I – I can't just –”

“I ain't gonna' kill you, idjit,” he promised, “And I ain't lettin' Crowley get a'hold of you either.”

“You make it sound like I'm going to give you a choice,” the demon said, “You boys can't keep me in this devil trap forever. And when I get out, I'm going to be taking my prize back to hell with me.”

“I don't believe we'll allow that,” Castiel warned, “One way or another, we won't let you get your hands on her.”

“Your funeral,” Crowley smirked.


	10. Ten

Crowley wasn't happy at the prospect of being left in the basement, but as we ascended the stairs to the sound of his curses and threats, I found myself caring for his plight less and less. With the door to the basement closed we were afforded some peace. It didn't help us to resolve the task at hand, however, and I knew that I wasn't going to come out of this in one piece.

“Maybe there's a cure,” I suggested half-heartedly.

“This would not be the sort of thing you could cure,” Castiel shook his head in a solemn manner, “A cure implies you are diseased, and you are not. The things inside of you are a part of who you are, the only way to permanently remove any of them would be death.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you would say something like that,” I dropped onto the couch and leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. Regardless of all the other blood in my veins, there was a part of me that had started out as human, there had to be. It might have been diluted and sullied after years of manipulative breeding but I could feel it deep down. I just couldn't be a monster, I couldn't become one of the things I hunted. Although, I did feel like something of a hypocrite for killing off other creatures. It was as Castiel said, none of us could help the life we were born to, or the species. 

How were they any different from me?

“Don't make that expression,” Bobby settled behind his desk, “It ain't gonna' help none.”

“Sorry, but I'm at a loss as to what, if anything, will help,” I retorted, “As far as I can see I can either die or be a slave to Crowley.”

“Or you can run,” Dean said, “O'course, that can't go on forever either.”

“Thanks, that's not actually helping,” I said.

Sam came to sit beside me and dropped one of his long arms around my shoulders. Gently he tugged me in against his side and gave me a consoling squeeze. They were acting like they'd just discovered I had a terminal illness. Well, that wasn't far off from the truth. This could be incredibly terminal if anyone else found out about it. Other hunters weren't so understanding. Things had to be black and white, there weren't any shades of grey. Probably because that kind of consideration was a commodity few hunters could afford. A monster could convince someone they weren't what they appeared, that they could go against their nature, and then turn on the innocent as soon as they were out of the line of fire. That's how they were going to see me. I was different from the others because I was a hybrid, but I was still capable of incredible evil.

“Maybe it'd be better if I –”

“If you say leave I'll lock you in that panic room until you're forty,” Bobby warned, “We're gonna' figure this out, without any more self sacrifice. I see that enough from those two idjits,” he looked more pointedly at Dean who tried to laugh and shrug it off as if he had no idea what Bobby was talking about.

“I think it'd be better we sleep on this,” Sam was the voice of reason yet again. He ruffled my hair at the back of my head, “You should take the spare room upstairs, we'll sleep down here.”

“Wait, there's a spare room? What the hell have I been sleeping on the floor for?” Dean asked.

“No use complainin' now,” Bobby said, “Go on Evelyn, we'll deal with everything. You should sleep.”

“What about all the bodies outside? You can't dig enough graves on your own, it'll take you hours.”

“I dealt with that while you were in the shower,” Castiel told me, “I can move quickly when the occasion calls.”

“It's true,” Dean nodded.

“I – I don't even – no, I'm not going to think too deeply about that,” I decided and, with Sam's help, managed to vacate the beaten up sofa, “No one sneak into my room, got that?”

“Why did you look at me when you said that?” Dean asked.

“You know why she did,” Bobby told him, “I'll sit outside that room with a shotgun if I have to, keep that in mind.”

“Hey, I would at least buy her a drink first!”

I didn't think I wanted to be present for the rest of the argument. I'd only been joking, but I supposed my dead-pan tone made it sound rather more serious a statement than I'd intended. With the aid of the banister I dragged my sorry carcass upstairs and into the spare room the boys had mentioned. My bag was already thrown onto the bed, one of them must had moved it earlier on for me. I shoved it onto the floor and collapsed, face down, atop the covers. Getting changed was just too much effort, I would deal with clothes and other complicated things in the morning. Right now all I wanted to do was shut out the rest of the world, and forget for a few hours that my life was pretty much over.

Home had never really been a thing I'd known as a child. I lived wherever my parents could afford to stay. Sometimes that was a motel, sometimes it was the back seat of their car. Other times it was on a friend's sofa. But I remembered the time we stopped off for a few weeks in a cheap motel outside of Oregon. I can't recall the job that had drawn them to that place, I don't even know how often they went out and left me alone. What I did remember was being six years old and pretending not to listen while my parents argued outside of the room they'd paid for until the end of the month.

My mother was hysterical. While she tried to keep her voice down, it raised gradually as my father pushed her to become increasingly emotional and angry. I wasn't under any illusion that their marriage had been perfect. Love was a strong emotion, but it didn't cancel out all the wrongs they committed against each other, intentional or not. I was too young to understand exactly what they were fighting about. But I heard my name.

What had I done wrong?

The door opened and I jumped a mile before I hurried off to hide behind the bed.

“Evie?” my mother came to me and scooped me up into her arms, “Did we scare you?”

She'd been crying. Again.

I shook my head, I didn't want to cause any more trouble than I might have already. I reached up and brushed my hand against her cheek, wiping the tears away clumsily. She took my fingers in her elegant digits and kissed them tenderly. My mother was like some kind of a Princess in my eyes, some angel who could never do any wrong.

Or so I thought until that day.

Now I remembered.

“Evelyn, are you awake?” my mother's voice found me in the middle of the night. Dad was gone, probably out on the hunt. He wouldn't be back for a few days. She kissed my forehead and tickled my cheek with her fingers until I was roused from my sleep.

“Mummy?” I asked softly and tried to make her out in the darkness, “What's wrong?”

“Shh,” she eased me out of the bed carefully, “We're going to take a little drive.”

I was so tired that as soon as she had me up in the warmth of her arms I dozed off again. I remember feeling the rock of the car as we drove to who knew where. My mother didn't say anything, or if she did I was in too deep a sleep to be woken by it. Finally we stopped, the car doors opened, and I was taken from the warmth of the passenger seat and out into the cold night air.

I opened my eyes as much as my exhaustion would allow. The stars were out, and the sky was clear of cloud cover. The unmistakable sound of water as it caressed the shore was getting ever closer. My mother was walking toward it, me in her arms, and I forced myself to a clearer level of consciousness. The first slosh sounded when she stepped into the freezing water. Her body tensed at the sensation, but it didn't deter her. She took another, and then another. Soon she was up to her waist in it, and my feet had broken the surface. The chill bit at my toes, and I curled up tighter to get away from the cold.

“Don't be scared, it's going to be okay,” her voice might have been soothing, but the look in her eyes was frightening. They were as icy as the water around us, dangerous, almost devoid of humanity. Carefully, she eased me from her chest, and started to lower me toward the surface.

“Mummy?!” I gasped before I sank beneath the water. I hadn't taken a breath, I wasn't ready. Was I going to die here?! I thrashed hard as the water pressed in around me. The sound of my struggles dull and muffled against it. The more I kicked, the tighter she held on. My clothes clung to me, and I heard a ringing in my ears. It was like everything was becoming distant and faint. If she held me under any longer I would pass out from the fright and lack of air, then I would be unable to save myself.

Not that I really understood how to do that. Instinct took over and I lifted my arms, palms facing this strange woman who had taken control of my mother. I opened my mouth as my body quaked and a great power burst forth. I had –

“Evelyn!” someone was leaning over me, their hands on my shoulders. Restrictive hands that were trying to hold my body down. My eyes snapped open and in my panic I brought my hands to their chest. The person flew away from me and slammed against the wall before they dropped like a sack of potatoes to the floor. I sat bolt upright in the bed, glancing around the room fearfully before I remembered where I was.

This was Bobby Singer's house.

I was in the spare room.

I'd just blasted Sam Winchester into a wall.

I fell to the floor in my hurry to get off the bed before I hurried to Sam's side. I helped him to sit up and asked, “Are you okay? Oh my God, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to – I mean – I don't even know how I – say something!”

“Ow.”

“Really, just ow?” I asked. Carefully I checked the back of his head. It wasn't bleeding. Good, I didn't want to kill him or anything. I hadn't even wanted to hurt him. That nightmare had felt so real, I must have mistaken him for the person trying to hurt me when he'd shaken me awake. I sat back and brought the back of my hand over my forehead. Cold beads of sweat clung to my hairline. Sam must have heard me from the hall. Because I spent so much time being alone, I didn't know if I was one to talk in my sleep, or to scream or thrash. With all the things I'd seen during my life as a hunter the fact that I did wasn't really a surprise. But I'd never managed to go all demon on anyone like that before, not while I was awake at least.

“Hey, what the hell just happened?” Dean asked as he burst into the room, gun in hand, no doubt anticipating some kind of a break in or sneak attack.

Sam held up a hand to his brother, “It's okay, it was just an accident.”

“An accident that leaves a Sam shaped dent in the brickwork?” he asked, “Was there a demon? Did you kill it?”

Castiel dodged around Dean and helped me to my feet. When he was sure I could stand under my own power he gave Sam the same assistance. He surveyed the room and quickly surmised, “It appears Evelyn has some latent demon abilities.”

“Like I said,” Sam pressed, “It was an accident.”

“You threw my brother against the wall?” Dean asked, “You threw this guy against the wall?”

“I don't know – I was having a dream and then next thing I know someone is over me and I freaked out, it's not like I meant to!”

“Look, Dean, it's my fault,” Sam defended me, “I tried to wake her up and she didn't know it was me. For all she knew it could have been Crowley, okay?”

Dean didn't look as convinced as I'd like, but he still lowered the gun. This was going to take some getting used to, I knew that. I certainly didn't want to cause injuries to anyone else in the house. Sam was a big guy, and he was strong enough to take a hit like that with minimal injury. If it had been Bobby I might have caused some serious damage. I shuddered when I thought about it. Whatever it was lurking inside of me, I despised it. I didn't want to be a demon or anything else like that.

“Have you ever done anything like that before?” Sam asked.

I shook my head, “No, I don't even know how I did it that time.”

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, “The way you were kicking and screaming it didn't seem like it was anything good.”

“I don't remember,” I lied. There was no good way to tell people that my mother had, apparently, tried to kill me when I was a child and I had suppressed the memory. That had to be at least twenty years of therapy right there.

“Perhaps,” Castiel began, “I should stay here for the night. I do not require sleep, and I feel confident I could counter any powers Evelyn is inclined to display while she is unconscious.”

“Well, it's not like he'll make a move on her,” Sam agreed and pushed Dean towards the door, “But if anything really bad happens, you call us. Got that, Cas'?”

“Understood.”

“Yeah and don't throw him out of the window or anything,” Dean warned me.

“I'll try, dad,” I retorted. Dean nodded once and then allowed Sam to eject him from the room. I wasn't sure that I wanted to sleep anymore. If I had another dream like that, well, I didn't know that it was just dream. And I didn't know if it was the only time she'd done that to me. Had my father tried to kill me too? Other hunters? Had they both known what I was the whole time and thought they would stop Crowley finding me? Then again, why wait until I was as old as that instead of just getting rid of me as a baby?

My head hurt.

I laid back on the bed and stared hopelessly toward the ceiling. The bed sank with Castiel's added weight and he lay next to me, eyes alert and bright, fixed on the same point as mine. For a moment there was silence between us. Resolute and stoic. Then he broke it by saying, “I have never understood why humans feel the need to stare at blank surfaces when they're thinking. Surely it would be better to close their eyes.”

“I guess it just helps them to block out other things without closing off their vision completely,” I reasoned.

“That would be sensible for a hunter, yes,” Castiel agreed, “But you are tired, and sleep would serve you better than worrying needlessly.”

“Needlessly?”

“Yes. You are worried that you have to resolve this issue alone, despite knowing that there are three hunters in this house alone that are willing to help and protect you. There is also an angel, who would like to do the same.”

“That's a sweet sentiment coming from a soldier of heaven.”

“Sentimentality is something I am still coming to terms with.”

“You're pretty good at it for a beginner,” I turned my head to smile at him, “Keep practising, I'm sure you'll be a pro in no time.”

“Thank you,” he smiled but it was shy and kind of awkward, the kind of smile a person gives when they're not sure if they're being mocked or complimented. Castiel watched me a moment before he suggested, “You should help with the practice. As – as a payment, for the protection.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“I don't understand the concept, though I am often accused of partaking in such things. Does it sound as if I am flirting?”

“God, I hope not,” I teased.

“I'm not sure what my father has to do with this.”

I laughed helplessly. Perhaps the answer to my humanity wasn't in some dusty old book, or a spell, or some complicated procedure to remove the demons inside of me. Maybe it was just in the company of a few good hunters, and one socially inept angel. I turned on my side and huddled up next to Castiel. He was warmer than the sheets, and knowing I wasn't alone might be enough to keep the nightmares at bay for the time being.

“Is it customary for people to sleep beside one another in this fashion?”

“Stop talking, Cas'. I'm trying to sleep.”

“Apologies. I uh – I will be here when you are awake.”


	11. Eleven

The angel at my shoulder was true to his word. When I opened my eyes in the morning he was still there. Although he didn't need to sleep, he had made an effort to make it appear he was. His ocean blue eyes were closed, his hands resting on his abdomen while he took carefully measured breaths through his nose. The nightmare hadn't returned, and I had been grateful for the extra few hours Castiel's company had afforded. I wasn't under any delusions as to his feelings toward me. Angels were not sexual creatures, and they were usually indifferent to the plights and emotions of humans. That he was willing to be my friend was enough of an anomaly. Besides, I still had that no relationships rule to abide by.

“You're awake,” he observed when he noticed my eyes were open. I raised my head and Castiel supported it with his arm. He eased me into a sitting position as he did the same, and I blinked a few times to remove the last bleary dregs of sleep from my vision. Slowly I pushed my fingers through my tangled tresses and remembered just what had happened the previous night. I was going to have to make that up to Sam somehow.

“Hey, you can teleport, right?” I asked.

“Yes. But I don't think leaving would be wise.”

I smiled, he thought I was planning to run away, that was cute. It was early and I anticipated no one had eaten breakfast yet. When I'd lived with the pack for the short time I had, I'd learnt to cook for a lot of people. Ever since I tried to prepare my own meals whenever possible. For a start, it was cheaper than eating out all the time. For another thing, it was healthier. I didn't think I'd be running around hunting all that long if my arteries were busy being clogged with the grease and fat of fast food. For Castiel's sake I clarified, “I just want to go buy some food. If you're that worried, you're welcome to play the part of my bodyguard while we're there.”

“I would have done so without you having to ask.”

“Okay, well, thanks Kevin Costner,” I quipped, “Just let me clean up really quick and we'll get going.”

“My name isn't Kevin.”

I was going to have to subject this guy to a few movies, otherwise all our conversations were going to go like this. I grabbed a pair of jeans which were torn at the knees from constant wear rather than as a fashion statement, and a black halter-neck top with some fresh underwear. I couldn't afford to wrap myself up in designer styles or statement pieces. My clothes had to be practical, durable and easy to move around in.

When I was finished changing I scraped my hair up into an untidy pony tail and felt that I could give the make up a miss. Castiel had seen me naked, sleeping, and covered in blood. If I smothered myself in foundation and eye-liner it wasn't going to improve anything in his estimation. I pulled on my boots and met him back in the spare room. He'd not budged an inch since I'd left. Moving so little just wasn't natural. Didn't his limbs get stiff if he wasn't using them? Weird guy.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” he looked me up and down. Given he only had the one outfit, I supposed my needing to change clothes was odd to him. Well, I wasn't planning to go out in those shredded clothes. I'd probably be arrested and carted off to the nearest asylum. I stuffed my wallet into my pocket and offered up a hand. Castiel touched my fingers and before I could blink we were in the middle of a supermarket. A few early morning shoppers noticed us and jumped in surprise. Hopefully they'd just figure they were so exhausted by the hour that they were seeing things.

“I've never understood,” Castiel said as he picked up a packet of snacks from a nearby shelf and turned it over in something close to wonder, “How they make cheese so luminous a yellow.”

“Chemicals,” I said, “Lots of them. And not what we're here for, come on.”

So he wouldn't wander off, I placed my hand in his, and dragged him around the aisles to find the ingredients I'd need to throw together a decent breakfast. I pictured Sam as a healthier eater than Dean, and figured something they could just pick and choose from would be better than landing loaded plates in front of them. Each time we stopped to pick up something, Castiel would turn and take a look around, like he was committing the place to memory.

I paid at the checkout rather than having Castiel zap us out of there with a basket of stolen groceries. Unlike the Winchesters, I had real money rather than phoney credit cards. One of the very few perks of being an orphan was an inheritance, and my step father had been pretty well off financially. If he knew I was spending his cash after I'd killed him then he'd be spinning in his grave faster than a cat in a tumble dryer.

The angel landed us in the middle of the kitchen and I set the bags down on the table.

“What's this?” Dean asked from the floor. He turned onto his stomach and squinted at the pair of us, he looked like he'd suffered for sleeping on the ground. I almost felt guilty for not offering to give up half of the bed to one of the brothers.

Almost.

“A peace offering.”

“I thought it was breakfast,” Castiel said.

“It's a peace offering in the form of breakfast,” I clarified, “How do you feel about pancakes?”

“Did you get any pie?”

“No,” I said and wrinkled my nose, “Who eats pie for breakfast?”

“If it's a good pie, everyone should.”

With a roll of my eyes I went to root around in the cupboards for pans so I could start getting things ready. Behind me, Castiel sat at the table and watched my every move with interest, sometimes asking what I was doing and why as I worked. Dean took his time in waking himself up, and kicked Sam when he was on his feet to rouse him. Bobby joined us in the kitchen and tried to make small talk with Castiel, but he seemed to have just as much trouble having a normal conversation with the angel as I did. He was trying, that much was clear.

I was worried I had cooked a little too much. Castiel didn't eat, Sam was picky, and I was trying not to look like a pig in front of them. Fortunately Dean was more than happy to cram down pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon to the point where he picked some food from Sam's plate as well. Bobby was a little more restrained in his portion control, but still put away more than I had managed.

“Where'd you learn to cook?” Dean asked around a mouthful of syrup laden pancake.

“I looked after myself pretty much since I was a teenager. Learn or starve, you know?” I sipped at the glass of orange juice before I added, “I cooked for the pack a lot too. You eat a lot more than they do, though.”

“Hey!”

“Is that all the argument you have?”

“... Shut up,” Dean stabbed his fork into an obliging rasher of bacon and made short work of it. 

Inside I was grinning like an idiot, while outside I felt I managed to keep a rather straight faced expression. When my parents weren't arguing, and while we were together, we used to eat meals like this. Dad would wolf down whatever mum put in front of him and declare it was the best he'd ever eaten, then try and sneak things from my plate if I took too long to eat it. I imagined that was the animal in him which gave him such an insatiable appetite. Mum didn't eat nearly as much, and was always so proper and ladylike in the way she cut up her food and used a napkin. They were such opposites I sometimes wondered what they saw in one another. But they both doted on me. Those mealtimes may have been rare, but they were memories I cherished. A shame then that I had so many bad ones that the good were really few and far between.

“It's great, Evelyn, thanks,” Sam smiled in that reassuring way of his. I wanted to stay here so badly with these boys. Okay, so they had to travel around, but it looked like they came back here fairly frequently. I craved a family, and that was selfish. It was the one thing I really couldn't have, the one thing I didn't really deserve. I'd had a family once and they'd died, I had to accept that and move on. These people could be my allies, but that was all. I had to close myself off, for their protection and for mine.

“Evelyn was quite determined to pick out foods she felt you would appreciate. I tried to offer up some knowledge but she assured me that burgers were not customarily consumed at breakfast,” Castiel informed them, “She has an excellent understanding of human consumption rituals.”

“Are – are you trying to pay a compliment?” Dean asked, as bemused as the rest of us at the angel's confused attempts at conversation.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Thank you, Castiel,” I smiled and patted his hand lightly in a display of gratitude.

“You are most welcome. I only wish I could enjoy it, but the smell is delightful enough.”

I blushed which made Bobby cough. This was starting to get awkward. He stood up and took his dishes to the sink, “I'll clean this up, you go get to researchin' on if any other hybrids exist.”

“You think that's possible?” I asked anyone who cared to answer.

“It might be,” Sam shrugged, “Failed experiments and all, I don't think Crowley would throw all his chances away on one shot at getting it right.”

“Yeah, he's usually pretty thorough in this sort of thing,” Dean agreed, “And if we can find others we can see if there's a way to cure it, or you know, control it.”

“Maybe,” I mused, “Let's steer clear of the cure idea for now, I mean, we agreed that the only finite cure was death and I'm still not keen on that one.”

“Yeah I kind of figured,” Dean nodded and then fought to keep hold of his plate when Bobby tried to take it away. He tutted and took mine instead. I wasn't feeling so hungry any more. I leaned back in the chair and let out a long breath through my nose. I'd never come across a hybrid of anything, not even a creature that was half human and half something else.

“Think Crowley would know?” I asked, “I mean, he's all trussed up in the basement, seems stupid to stick our noses in books and search online when we've got the scheming son of a witch downstairs.”

“I don't think he'd be inclined to help us,” Castiel admitted, “It wouldn't be in his interests.”

“Maybe not,” Dean put down his fork, “But we could probably make him talk.”


	12. Twelve

I didn't think I was particularly squeamish, but I wasn't much of a one for torture. I was going to leave that to the people with the magic demon slaying knife. I stayed huddled on the sofa, staring at the wall while I heard Crowley shouting every insult under the sun at Sam, Dean and Bobby. They shouted back with equal fury, and in between Crowley let out howls of pain. My stomach clenched uncomfortably. Was it really worth all this? I didn't think so.

“I know what you're thinking,” Castiel, the loyal guard dog, told me. He was watching from the desk, his gaze so fixed on my face I thought he might burn holes into my cheek.

“I really don't think you do.”

“You're thinking that it would be better if you ran away after all, and that maybe it would be best to allow Sam and Dean to kill you so whatever Crowley is planning cannot come to pass.”

Okay, maybe he did have some idea what was going through my head.

I shrugged in an offhanded way and replied, “The only two options I can think of are kill him or kill me.”

“Killing him is certainly preferably, though infinitely more difficult.”

“How so?”

“He is a very – well – resilient foe. There are also many powerful demons who would not hesitate to take Crowley's place were he to die, and they would not be so generous in allowing Sam and Dean Winchester to live.”

It really was me or them, wasn't it?

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded once. The spiral of despair I found myself caught in just kept on forcing me downwards. There was no way I could climb back up toward the hope I'd had before, the feeble, vain hope I might one day have a better life. No, I was forever damned by this blood in my veins, by the spiteful deal my ancestors had made all for the sake of vengeance and power.

Castiel stood from his perch and came to sit beside me. He was uncomfortably close, seemingly indifferent to the concept of personal space. The angel leaned against my shoulder and I did nothing to push him away. His presence was grounding, it reminded me that even if I had resigned myself to the gallows, I wasn't dead just yet.

“For an angel, you're pretty open minded,” I said, “I mean, I thought you'd be all wrath of God and smite me or something.”

“I might have if I thought you were a threat to the Winchesters. They have an important role to play in the fate of humanity. If I ever thought you would endanger them, it would be my duty to remove you from their lives, regardless of any sentiment felt.”

“I don't think Dean feels all that sentimental about me,” I assured Castiel.

He shifted in his seat and in a mutter he said, “I was referencing my own sentiment – my own feelings.”

“Wow,” I looked down at my feet to avoid eye contact. Castiel's stares were always so intense, I didn't know that I could look a man in the eyes after he'd announced something like that so openly. He'd just threatened to kill me and admitted he had some kind of feelings for me all in one go. Talk about mixed signals. Softly, I cleared my throat and answered, “I have a no relationship rule but uh – I'm guessing you don't really understand what a relationship is so we're not in any danger of that happening.”

“I have observed the relationships between humans from afar. Often, I have seen examples of pizza men who show certain emotions for young ladies who have –”

“Wait – I don't think I want to know where that's going,” I interrupted, my blush reaching all the way to my ears. I wasn't a prude, I knew what porn was and I'd seen it. But hearing a straight laced guy like Castiel confess to watching it was just too much. Not to mention, he seemed to think it was appropriate to take relationship advice from it. That was – wow – I couldn't say I was all that surprised given how weird he was but – wow!

Castiel appeared to understand that perhaps the pizza man's advice in relationships was not to be followed in all cases. He clenched his jaw, and then nodded just once. I hadn't meant to hurt his feelings or out and out rebuff his advances, but I didn't think this conversation was going in an appropriate direction. In order to break the awkward silence between us I asked, “Just how often have you seen these examples of relationships involving fast food delivery men?”

“I – I don't know that I should disclose that.”

I snorted with laughter. Well, hanging around with Dean Winchester was going to rub off on people, and hunters did get lonely on the road. Who was I to judge? I'd dated a psychopathic skin walker after all, and I'd had my share of one night stands. It wasn't a sin to want to stave off loneliness without any danger of commitment. Actually, it kind of was, but the Bible had been written for a totally different century. It was hard to take it all literally these days. Seemingly spurred on by my laughter and the eased tension in the air, the angel swept in toward my face. Instinct made me turn away whereupon the intended kiss landed on my cheek.

“Sorry,” I said quickly so he wouldn't be offended. I picked at a loose thread at the hem of my halter-neck top and explained, “Crowley said I was part siren and I don't know if that means something is going to happen to you if we – you know?”

“I am an angel of the Lord,” he reminded me, “I am not so susceptible to such things. Also, you are a hybrid, there is no guarantee you will have that kind of ability over anyone.”

“I still don't know if I want to risk it.”

Castiel didn't back off as I thought he would. He tilted his head and I felt the gentle pressure of his mouth against the nape of my neck. It gave me chills to feel the caress of his mouth on my skin, and certainly not in a bad way. His thumb was on my cheek, holding me still while he made a trail of these sweet kisses up to my jaw, his fingers cradling the other side of my neck. Well, I could see why he was an angel of the Lord, he was definitely able to make me feel like I was on my way to heaven. My fingers found the front of his shirt and I held the fabric gently, trying to ground myself so that my feelings wouldn't get away from me.

It was hard to recall just why I thought this wouldn't work, and why I felt that relationships were a bad idea. As his fingers moved to the back of my head, tickling at the strands of hair I had scraped back into my pony tail, I let out a helplessly contented sigh from my lightly parted lips. Castiel's stubble scratched gently against my cheek, he was actively trying to avoid my lips, working hard to make me feel the same excitement of physical contact without breaking that boundary. My heart fluttered in my chest. This kind of thing just wasn't good for me. If the hunters downstairs didn't kill me, the angel's kiss just might. 

Castiel stopped and pulled back a little, but the intimacy was still there. Slowly he closed back in and brushed the tip of his nose against the bridge of mine, then down until his mouth hovered over mine. Before I could protest, he placed his thumb against my lips, and then kissed over it. Holding back was torture. I was wrestling with my conscience the whole time his mouth touched mine. Torn between wanting to break that barrier and to hell with the consequences, and pushing him away before we were both past the point of no return.

Fortunately, an intrusion in the form of Bobby arrived before I had to make such a heart breaking choice.

“What the sam-hell do you two think you're doin'?” he demanded from the doorway. I was quick to recoil, but Castiel didn't so much as flinch. To Bobby, I would always be that cute little girl in pink dungarees. The idea of me dating or kissing a man was beyond anything he'd ever want to comprehend. That the man should be an angel, an immortal creature of heaven, was just impossible to allow.

“Evelyn and I were just –”

“Nothing!” I interrupted, stupid angel would get us both in trouble with a mouth like his, “We were just – we weren't doing anything. What's going on with Crowley? It's all kind of quiet down there.”

It was quiet, not enough to make me suspicious, but I had some hope that Crowley was ready to give up some information. Bobby fixed Castiel with a firm glare of warning before he told me, “He says he wants to talk to you direct. We tried to avoid it, but he ain't budgin'.”

“Okay,” I steeled my nerves as I raised myself off the couch, “I'll listen to whatever it is he has to say.”

“You don't have to do that, Evelyn,” Castiel assured me.

“No, I really do.”

The basement was practically silent when we came down the stairs. Our footfalls echoed from the weapon laden walls, and a beat up Crowley sat in an uncomfortable chair. Underneath the blood, fractures and bruises he still bore that same confidence that came with knowing he had the upper hand, that so long as he had all the information, he was the most powerful man in the room. Dean watched the man with such intense loathing that, if looks could kill, Crowley would have been reduced to a burnt out husk of a monster already. Sam was cradling one hand in the other, both brothers sporting split knuckles from the beatings they had unleashed on the demon.

“Kitten, there you are,” Crowley greeted me conversationally when he noticed me through his purpled eyes, “You missed the party, and I was so looking forward to having you lay your hands on me.”

“Watch your tone, Crowley,” Castiel warned darkly.

“Touchy,” a smirk tugged at the corner of the demon's mouth, “Have I missed something interesting?”

“Nothing you should concern yourself with,” the angel retorted.

“Oh, I doubt that. Anyway, I was hoping to speak with the Princess alone.”

“Not happenin',” Dean almost shouted, “Whatever you've got to say, you say it in front of all of us.”

“Dean, it's okay,” I said, “He can't get out of the devil trap, it's not like he can do anything to me.”

“No, it is not okay,” he approached, held both my shoulders in a tight grip, and looked me dead in the eyes when he said, “He created you. How do you know he hasn't got some hoodoo way of controlling you?”

“I don't, for the record,” Crowley chuckled, “At least, not with me.”

“Shut up, Crowley!” Sam snapped, exhausted from the hours of torture no doubt, and his nerves as frayed as the rest of ours. He let out a long exhale through his nose and in a terse voice asked, “Where are the other hybrids?”

“Dead, for the most part,” Crowley shrugged, “I'm not one to hold onto failed experiments out of sentimentality.”

“For the most part?” I asked, “So they're not all dead?”

“Well no, I've lost track of some but I found you,” a wicked smile crossed Crowley's face when he added, “Oh, and I tracked down your brother, too.”

“Brother?” Dean and Sam asked at the same time and looked at me for some kind of explanation. I was as perplexed as they were, as far as I knew, I was an only child. Together, we glanced to Bobby. I expected him to show just as much confusion. Instead he looked at his feet and softly cleared his throat.

“You knew about this?” Dean's tone was accusatory, “You knew there was another hybrid out there?”

“The boy is dead, Dean,” Bobby snapped back, “I didn't think there was much point in bringin' him up!”

“Is he?” Crowley asked cryptically.

“I don't have a brother,” I growled at the demon, “It's impossible!”

“Nothing's impossible, pet. I can give you a name, and an address, and I guarantee that you'll find the man himself.”

“And why exactly would you do that?” Castiel asked, “What's in it for you?”

“I can't be a humanitarian? Can't find the joy in a blissful family reunion?” Crowley asked, apparently shocked that we would doubt his obviously generous and kind hearted nature. When none of us answered he tilted his head and said, “I want what I have always wanted, the reason I made the bloody deal in the first place! I want my weapon.”


	13. Thirteen

Crowley wasn't going to get his weapon. I might have been willing to sacrifice myself at the drop of the hat, but Bobby was vehemently against the idea. We left him battered and bleeding in the basement, and returned to the house, the base of operations as it now appeared to be. Sam was on the laptop, and Bobby was putting in calls. He seemed to know a lot more about my brother than he was willing to admit openly. I'd looked into missing persons myself before when I was out on jobs and hunting down potential victims or families of them. But this was different. This was personal. We had to play it carefully, if they knew that I was a relative then it might have been easier to get the information, but then it would alert others to my whereabouts. There was no knowing which creatures had infiltrated the system, if there were demons watching out for me, waiting to act on Crowley's orders even in his absence.

“I'm not sure finding this man is the best course,” Castiel told me quietly while the others worked and I paced nervously, feeling useless and at a total loss of what to do. I stopped when he placed his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes, “There may be a good reason why your parents kept the two of you apart.”

I couldn't disagree with that, but I didn't understand a lot of what my parents did. I didn't understand why they thought it was a good idea to keep me while they had to give up my older brother. I didn't understand why they had taken me on the road with them while they faced all the dangers that came with being a hunter. And I didn't understand why one night my mother had tried to kill me, and never tried again after that, or how I made her stop.

My life had never been straightforward or easy, but at least until now I had been able to move on without wondering too much about the past. I'd made a promise to myself to never look back, and now here I was being suffocated by the shadows of my childhood, and of promises made by my ancestors. This was starting to give me a headache.

Bobby was thanking whoever he was on the phone to before he hung up, “Think I've got somethin' on your brother,” he pointed toward Sam and his laptop, “Lee Sampson, adopted by Margaret and John Sampson of Portland, Oregon.”

“Well, that'll narrow it down,” Dean said sarcastically, “Do you know how many people are in Portland?”

“How about we just focus on how many are called Sampson?” Sam suggested. Dean rolled his eyes and went to fetch a beer. Bobby hovered behind Sam while he tapped away at search engines and tried to find a list of names in a directory which may match up. I wasn't that hopeful, the number would probably be in the hundreds. Besides, they'd said Oregon of all places. I felt a chill, one Castiel must have noticed. He gave me a quizzical look but I was quick to shrug it off.

“Wow,” Sam said quietly.

“Long list?” I asked, glad that he'd served as a distraction from awkward questions. If there were too many people, maybe we'd be able to give it up. I didn't know that I wanted to meet my brother. He might have some answers, maybe understand what being a hybrid meant, or have tips on how to deal with it. Maybe he'd even found a way to move under the radar so the demons wouldn't find him. But that wouldn't change the fact I was the child that my parents had chosen to keep. He had been pushed away, left to the care of strangers. I'd been raised by my mother until the time of her death. My life hadn't been easy, but I imagined he'd think I got the better deal.

“No,” Sam sounded shocked, “I mean, I thought we'd be digging around this for days, but check this out.”

I left Castiel's side to look over all of the articles Sam had open on the laptop. They all featured the same young man. He was handsome, his cheek bones high and his eyes blazing green. His hair was the same shade of brown as mine and neatly cut and spiked up. The articles were full of praise for him, Lee Sampson the class president, the boy who saved a family from a fire when he was out jogging late at night, the ex-soldier who took a bullet for his commander during an ambush while touring overseas. He seemed like this all American hero, the guy that everyone wants to be friends with. His adopted parents were beaming in all the pictures they featured in, eyes full of pride for their beloved child.

“As far as monsters go, he's pretty well adjusted,” Dean commented.

“Yeah, and not exactly camera shy,” Sam said, “You think maybe he doesn't know what he is? I mean, if I were on the run from demons I sure as hell wouldn't want my picture plastered all over everything.”

“No, he has to know. When I was a kid sometimes I changed into a dog when I was asleep because I had no self control.”

“I think his parents would stop smilin' at him so much if they'd seen that,” Dean mused aloud, “So, maybe he just doesn't know there are other people like him? I mean, if he's been brought up by humans then he's going to be out of touch with the monster community.”

“Would you please stop using the word monster?” I asked, “You're going to give me a complex, here.”

“Sorry,” Dean was so not sorry it was unbelievable, “Force of habit.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered, then asked Sam, “Any chance you could get an address?”

“Easily, I mean, it might not even be him. Fits the bill and all, but there could be another Lee Sampson.”

“Who was adopted and raised by a Margaret and a John?” Bobby asked after motioning to a picture of Lee smiling with a group of orphans after raising money to support their children's home, “I'd say this is a pretty safe bet.”

“Safe is not a term I would use,” Castiel said darkly. He fixed that piercing gaze on me again and asked, “What was your nightmare about, Evelyn?”

“I don't see how that matters right –”

“It matters,” he interrupted, “When Bobby said Oregon you looked afraid. Why?”

I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head in a short, stubborn motion, “Nothing.”

“Evelyn, you've always been a bad liar,” Bobby said, “Your parents had a job in Oregon when you were a brat, didn't they?”

“They probably had a lot of jobs in Oregon,” I reasoned, “I can't be expected to remember all of them.”

“But they only took you on one. And when they came back they left you here for damn near three months before they came to getcha,” Bobby squinted, “Never told me why, but you were quiet as a mouse that whole time. Couldn't getcha to shut up the rest of the time you stayed here. Figured you must have seen 'em beat up after a bad hunt. Now, you tell me what happened out there.”

“This is a waste of time,” I said evasively, “I was a child, I don't remember. We should just go, if we don't get to Lee before Crowley's demons do then he and his family could die. You heard him, he doesn't like letting his failed experiments live.”

“Evelyn –” Castiel began.

I snapped furiously and stood from my seat, “Don't, just don't! You guys have known me for a couple of days, okay? I'm sorry, I know you want to help, but I just want to get this finished so I can get on with my life.”

“You call runnin' all over to get away from skin walkers, and huntin' down demons, a life?” Bobby asked, “That ain't no life!”

“Better than ending up as a slave to some centuries old demon deal!” I countered, “It's the only life I had, Bobby. It sucked, but it was mine, and I didn't have to answer to anyone. I don't want to be on Crowley's radar, any more. I just want to be me again. Messed up, cowardly, stupid me.”

“You only didn't have to answer to anyone because you were on your damn own! You ain't on your own now, you idjit, you've got friends and a family!”

“I don't want a family!” I shouted, “Families betray each other, and they leave, and they die! A family is the last bloody thing I want!”

“Your parents never betrayed you! Your mother –”

“Tried to kill me!” the words were out before I could do anything to stop them. In my anger and spite I had spit out the thing I wanted to hide from the most. That my own mother, the woman who always claimed she would give her life to protect me, had attempted to take my life away. I was shaking all over with rage and sorrow, even fear. He memory was as raw to me today as it had been when I was a child. I'd been in too much shock at that age to express it properly and I had tried to suppress it, and run away from it in my mind. I wanted to believe so badly it had all been a bad dream. Now I was an adult I knew exactly what it was, and I was capable of resenting that heartless woman.

What made me really, really sick, was knowing that she had come back from me. She knew that she had tried to kill me, but she'd still happily collected me from Bobby and acted like nothing had happened. She would brush my hair for me when we were together, sing me to sleep, read me bedtime stories. That woman had played the role of the ideal mother every moment since that day, like her guilt was forcing her to show me kindness, or as if she hoped enough false love and care would erase her crime. It hadn't. Nothing would fully remove that knowledge.

“Evie, I didn't –”

“Bobby,” I sighed, “Just leave it, okay? Let's just go and find my brother before we miss the opportunity.”

“We need to talk about this.”

“No, we don't. Look, either you guys start packing up a car or I'm going to get on my bike and ride to Oregon on my own. What's it going to be?”

The others were obviously unhappy about leaving this subject hanging, but I wasn't going to cave in. It was my problem, not theirs. I was glad of the backup but I still fully intended to leave them behind when it was over. Maybe it was cold, and even cruel of me, but nothing good ever happened when I was around. In time, they'd thank me for sparing them the curse of my company.


	14. Fourteen

It was a more than twenty hour drive from Sioux Falls to Oregon. I was glad I didn't have to spend it on the bike. Bobby offered up a van we could use, but we opted for two cars. It meant we could rotate on the driving so we could take turns sleeping, and that Dean didn't have to be too far from his precious Impala. An overnight stay in a motel was off the cards. I wasn't keen on taking such a long break, and it was a waste of money. The back seat was fine for me.

Thankfully no one asked awkward questions, mostly because I was either driving or dozing the whole way. I rode in the back of Dean's car, with Castiel for company, though he sat up front instead of at my side. I could deal with that, I didn't want to get any closer to him than I had already. Goodbyes were painful enough, I didn't need to make that any more difficult. Sam stuck with Bobby, and it made the drive painfully dull. Still, at least Dean had decent music to listen to.

“Evelyn?” it was Castiel who gently shook me awake. No nightmares this time, though I wasn't sleeping nearly as deeply as I had at Bobby's place. With the low hum of music and their muttered conversations peppering the journey, it was impossible to slip completely beyond the realm of consciousness.

“We here?” I asked groggily and rubbed the back of my hand over my eyes.

“Yes, Dean has found a motel. It would be wise to regroup before we attempt to find your brother.”

Regrouping meaning getting together and talking some more. I wasn't in the mood for that. I knew I wasn't exactly a joy to work with, and I was making this a lot more difficult than I needed to, but I just couldn't handle other people all of the time. Just another reason why working and living alone was easier. There was no guilt, no lies, no secrets. You knew everything you needed to know and didn't have to share anything with people who could judge or despise you. I didn't want these people to hate me. Deep down, I wanted them to accept me. But as soon as they did it scared me. I was so afraid of letting them in, letting them see all the darkest parts of myself, and that they'd then change their minds and throw me away.

It was all so needlessly complicated. Friends and family and lovers, I didn't understand it at all!

“You planning on sitting in the back seat brooding all night, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Didn't I tell you not to call me that any more?”

“Maybe,” he winked, “But those kinds of rules don't count after you cross state lines.”

“What? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”

“Oh I doubt that,” Dean teased. He was making it very difficult for me to maintain my cold and uncaring demeanour. I clambered out of the car and grabbed my bag from the trunk. Hopefully we wouldn't be spending too long here.

Dean took charge and went to pay up for a couple of rooms, after I gave him a bundle of notes to cover my expenses. We were going to need more than one room, and I insisted that I have one of my own. I knew the boys and Bobby wouldn't ever do anything untoward to me, but I was still a young woman, and I needed my own space.

I only entered the room to leave my stuff, then locked up and went next door to listen to Sam, Dean and Bobby try to formulate some strategic plan of attack. They made it sound like we were on some kind of a hunt, but it was nothing like that. We just wanted to talk to this guy, and protect him if we had to.

“Honesty is probably the best policy here,” I interjected when there was a lull in the conversation.

“As in, tell him that he's a cursed hybrid monster and demons want to catch him?” Dean asked, “I don't think he's gonna go for that.”

“Or,” I said in a patronising tone, “We tell him that I'm his sister and I've been trying to find my older brother, and that I want to get to know him.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Sam agreed, “So who are we meant to be?”

“Bobby can be my legal guardian,” I reasoned, it wasn't too far from the truth after all, “Dean and Castiel can be private investigators, and Sam can play the role of the protective boyfriend.”

“Hey, always wanted to play a P.I,” Dean seemed fairly happy with his cover story at least.

Castiel furrowed his brow and asked, “Why is it that Sam is playing the boyfriend?”

“Because he looks closer to my age, and he has a basic understanding of how to act like a human being.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, “I – I think?”

“It was a compliment,” I assured him, “Besides, Cas', you have the whole trench coat, private eye kind of vibe going on. This works better.”

“I'm not sure I'm inclined to agree.”

“It's an act, Cas',” Sam told him, “It's not like I'm actually dating her.”

Castiel still didn't look all that pleased. Then again, his emotions were pretty difficult to read when his expressions were always so stiff. To distract from the awkward turn the conversation had taken I asked Sam, “Did you find out where he works?”

“His father owns a telecommunications company in the city, looks like Lee is pretty high up in the corporate ladder.”

“Daddy probably fast tracked him for every promotion going,” Dean said, “Might make it tough to get an appointment.”

“As if that's ever stopped you boys,” I said with a sly smile. They both chuckled as if they felt foolish for doubting their own abilities in the art of lying. If they wanted to get an appointment with the President they'd probably have found a way to do it. I stole a glance at the clock on the wall. It was late, and I needed to look fairly well rested for the next day. If I was half asleep I wasn't going to be as quick on the draw as was required, “I'm going to turn in. Don't go leaving without me tomorrow, alright?”

“As if we could,” Sam patted the top of my head in that comforting, older brother manner again. I elbowed him gently in the side before I left, waving absently at the other three. My sentimentality was sneaking in again. It was hard to keep in check around the Winchesters.

“I still don't understand,” Castiel said from behind me as I closed the door to my room. I turned sharply on the spot and held a hand over my chest. That idiot! He'd almost given me a heart attack! I locked the door and let out the breath I'd just sucked in, then stalked over to the bed to turf out the contents of my bag, seeking out fresh clothes for the morning and a gun I could keep under my pillow for the night.

“What don't you understand, Cas'?” I asked, knowing full well what he had an issue with.

“Sam – do you – is there something that –”

“No,” I said flatly, “But even if there was, it wouldn't be any of your business.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Yeah I figured you might,” I muttered.

“Then why did you suggest it?!” his voice was so angry it caught me off guard. I span on my heel and stared wide eyed. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, the lights had actually flickered in tune with his fury which I felt crackling through the air like electricity. Castiel was a prime example of how emotions could be dangerous when one let them go unchecked. The angel crossed the room in only a couple of strides before he swept me up against his firm chest. The pressure he exerted in the embrace crushed the air right out of me, but he was unrelenting, and when I wriggled he only held tighter.

“Cas', seriously, I need air,” I gasped.

Understanding that he was doing more harm than good, he relaxed his arms and kept me in a gentler grip. Seeing the way his face changed from an expression of jealous anger to one of desperation and heartache made my chest hurt even more than when he'd squashed me. It was enough to severely dent my resolve. If I gave him hope now and broke his heart later, wasn't that worse? I couldn't pretend like I was going to be able to live some happily ever after, apple pie life with him. That just wasn't on the cards for me, it never had been. Even when my mother had sent me off to a normal school like all the other kids I knew I wouldn't live the way they could. Their futures lay in education and marriage, mine lay in bloodshed and slaughter.

Castiel was a good man, or as close to a man as an angel could be. He deserved more than I had to offer. He should have bestowed his affections on a person who could return them without fearing the consequences of doing so. The worst part of all of it was, for all my internal promises of solitude and self preservation, I yearned for the comfort of another human being. Or angel, whatever.

“This really isn't going to work,” I said quietly.

“Are you trying to convince yourself, or are you talking to me?”

“Both, I think,” the laugh that followed was a hollow sound, one I'd hoped would mask the pain I felt, but probably only made it worse. I continued, “This is – look – I can't go through with anything that's... Cas', I'm not really good with getting close to people.”

“I had observed that, yes.”

“Then you know that we can't let this carry on. It's better that we just forget all about what happened at Bobby's, and we go back to hunting. Then when this is over I'll walk away and you can just forget about –”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I don't want to forget,” he said, “I have observed humans for so long, the way they build relationships with others and forge bonds. It was interesting, but alien to me. The Winchesters helped me to understand true loyalty and friendship, and I have felt affection for people before. But you,” something like sadness touched his eyes, “You made me feel something more. I cannot tell you why, I do not fully understand it myself, but I know that if I were to let you walk away from me it would be a mistake. I do not want to share you, not even with Sam Winchester, and I don't want you to think so little of yourself.”

“You're making it sound like you're –”

“I believe humans call it being in love, yes.”

“No, I don't believe in love at first sight. Crushes and things like that are for children. Besides, you called me an abomination,” I wasn't going to let that go, “And you contemplated killing me. What you're feeling is probably pity.”

Stubbornly, he shook his head. For a man who was still learning to be human he certainly had that trait nailed. Despite my fears of any latent siren abilities I may have, Castiel leaned in and pressed his mouth firmly over mine. It was a possessive kiss, demanding and firm. He wasn't just trying to show his affection, he was attempting to prove the ferocity of that emotion, to tell me just how strongly he was convinced of them. He wouldn't allow me to push him away and, frankly, my brain was having some trouble communicating any such instruction to my arms. His perseverance was wearing me down, and I was so, so tired of having to fight off the feelings which had been blossoming for this trench coat clad bundle of confusion since he'd first healed me in that house.

To hell with the consequences, I needed this.


	15. Fifteen

“Castiel?” I asked groggily as the sunlight streamed through the window and spilled across the bed. It stirred me awake, and I knew the arms around me were that of the angel I had been unable to refuse the previous night.

“Yes?”

“Did you watch me sleep?”

He hesitated before he uttered an uncertain, “No.”

“You're such a liar.”

“I didn't have anything else to do,” Castiel admitted, “Do you mind?”

“Not really,” I admitted, “Must have been boring for you though.”

“You make interesting faces while you sleep. I was sufficiently entertained.”

I didn't know if I should be offended by that or not. He probably didn't mean any harm, but now I was feeling rather self conscious. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, squinting against the intrusive light which dared to blight an otherwise ideal morning. Then I remembered we were going out to find my brother soon. Maybe it wasn't that ideal after all.

Suffice to say, I didn't get as much sleep as I'd planned. Castiel had a lot of stamina, and I hadn't been inclined to stop him from having his fill of our embrace. Which was why we were tangled together in the sheets, a mess of limbs and the lingering odour of the events of the previous night still prevalent in the air. I couldn't have Bobby, Sam or Dean walk in on us like this. We'd never hear the end of it, and Bobby might just shoot Castiel in the groin for what he'd perceive to be taking advantage of me. Of course he hadn't, but Bobby wasn't the type to listen to reason before discharging a firearm into a possible threat.

“I need to take a shower,” I groaned and tried to work myself free of Castiel's arms. His fingers slipped over my skin and mentally I steeled myself against the urges such a sensation drove forth within me. Not right now, there would be time for that when we were finished here.

“Is Sam still going to play your boyfriend?” he asked.

“Yes,” I wasn't going to budge on that, “And you're not going to complain about it all bloody day, got that?”

“I can't make any promises.”

“Cas', please?”

“Fine, I will allow it.”

I laughed softly, “Allow? My God, we're going to have to talk about this if you're going to get jealous over something so small.”

“Jealous?”

“Yes, Cas'. You're being jealous.”

“I've often wondered what that feels like,” he muttered while I was picking up some fresh clothes and trying to find a towel, “I can see why people view it as a negative emotion. I feel a great anger towards Sam Winchester although, rationally, I know that he hasn't done anything wrong.”

“Love isn't rational,” I told him, “It'll drive you nuts.”

“Clearly.”

When I was finished taking my shower, Castiel was gone. He must have been summoned away by the Winchesters. I wasn't going to complain, it was probably for the best that I had a few minutes to myself. I needed to prepare. If we were going in to find my brother I couldn't go armed. I felt naked without a small armoury carried on my person, but if he found out I was packing then he was going to run a mile in the opposite direction. Those short years I spent pretending to be a normal person in school might pay off, I was going to have to go all civilian. I felt dirty just thinking about it.

“Hey,” Dean rapped his knuckles against the door and called through, “You ready to go?”

“As ready as I'm going to get,” I muttered so he wouldn't hear. I really hoped that our luck might change, and this one thing would go smoothly. If it didn't – well – we were going to have to find a more permanent cage for Crowley than Bobby's basement.

The city of Portland was vast. I should have been used to the size of the cities since I had started touring America, but I couldn't get over it. England had big cities, but not on this kind of scale. That we had managed to locate one man in this kind of a metropolis was unbelievable. It almost seemed too easy. Maybe that was the paranoia one came to feel after walking the path of a hunter for so long, but it just didn't sit right with me. As we walked toward the enormous glossy telecommunications building something in my gut told me to dig my heels, to turn around and find some other hybrid who might know a way to stay hidden or get rid of these abilities. But there weren't any others, not that we had time to find. Lee was our only hope.

I waited in the lobby with Sam, trusting Dean and Castiel to sweet talk their way into Lee's office to reveal his long lost sister. I tapped my feet impatiently. With every minute that passed I wondered if something had gone wrong, if we should run up with guns blazing and save Dean and Cas' from whatever they had to face. Not that we had guns, but we could probably crack a few heads with some fire extinguishers.

“Hey, it's going to be okay,” Sam said. He put an arm around my shoulders and brought me close to his side. I breathed him in. No, I didn't have feelings for Sam, but I imagined he'd make a decent boyfriend for the right woman. I would rather have him as a brother than some high powered desk jockey any day.

“I don't know,” I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding in, “This just feels wrong to me. Lee has a life, and we're going to drag him away from it and fill it full of crazy.”

“If we didn't come and get him, then Crowley would,” Sam reasoned, “And he's our only hope. This guy has lived a normal, human life for this long. Maybe there's something in his blood that cancels out all the other species, or maybe he does know about the demons and he's got some voodoo amulet that helps him hide from them. If we don't ask, we'll never know.”

“I guess but – I just – I wish that I'd never walked into your lives, Sam,” I said, “I was always running from the pack but I had no idea there were demons with a price on my head.”

“You think living in total ignorance is better?”

I shook my head lightly. They said that ignorance was bliss, and I could relate to that. I just hated it. All of it. Everything about my life, I hated. Well, except these boys, and Castiel, and uncle Bobby. It was so stupid that the only stable things in my life were a group of haunted, messed up hunters.

“They're back,” Sam said and helped me to my feet. Lee was with them, deep in conversation with Dean who looked well and truly into playing his part. Castiel gave a short nod in our direction, which I took to mean we were about to get this show on the road. Sam kept his arm around me, knowing the closer we were physically, the more people would buy our relationship.

“Evelyn?” Lee asked when he saw me. I don't know what I expected, maybe shouting or disbelief, maybe even that he'd call security and have us thrown out. I wasn't expecting that he'd run over and pull me into a suffocating embrace, “Oh my God, it's you!”

“Yeah it's er – it's me,” I patted him on the back awkwardly, “You know about me?”

“I've been trying to find you for years! Ever since I found out that I was adopted but Mom had died and you were missing, I can't believe you're here!”

“Me either,” I admitted, “Well, here I am – um – hi!”

“Hi?” Dean asked, “Seriously?”

“Thanks so much for your hard work,” I glared over Lee's shoulder at Dean as a warning that he was breaking character, “I couldn't have done it without you.”

“No problem, Miss, all part of the job.”

“Lee,” I gently eased his arms from around me so I could wave Sam over, “This is my boyfriend, Sam. And my guardian is waiting outside, he's overprotective and when he found out I was looking for you he insisted I bring him along.”

“I understand completely,” Lee assured me and held a hand out to Sam, “And it's nice to meet you, man. You are really tall! I would threaten to beat you up if you hurt my sister, but I don't think I'd make a dent.”

“No, I think you'd probably get a good punch in,” Sam said and gave a firm handshake in greeting, “I hope you don't think I'm intruding or anything, but I wanted to make sure Evelyn was safe and if this didn't work out then – you know.”

“It's fine, don't worry about it,” Lee was certainly a well mannered guy, “In fact, I'm glad she has so many people looking out for her. If she'd come on her own I'd be worried, I really would.”

I felt stupid for being scared of letting this guy into my life. He was a ray of sunshine wrapped up in an expensive suit. Too bad I was about to bring an eclipse over that golden glow. I smiled as sweetly as I could and asked, “If it's not too much trouble, would it be okay if we went somewhere to talk? Maybe grab a coffee? I know you're at work and you probably have a pile of things to get through, but –”

“Know what? I can push all that back. You are my sister and I want to get to know you,” Lee patted me on the top of the head. It felt strange, like not as good as when Sam did it. That might change in time. If I was lucky, this would be a new life for me. What if he really did have a way to keep demons at bay? Would his family accept me and let me live a normal life with them? That was probably a long way off, and something of a fantasy. Besides, I didn't think Castiel would be able to maintain any kind of a relationship with me if I was trying to be a normal woman.

He held up a finger to signal I should wait a minute and jogged away to speak to the receptionist. It was then that Castiel came in close to ask, “Are you sure you should be alone with this man?”

“You think he's dangerous?” I asked.

“No,” Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Lee, “But I have been wrong before.”

“We'll stay close,” Dean said in a hushed voice, “Go somewhere public like a cafe or a park. Even if you can't see us, we'll be watching from nearby.”

“Think he knows what he is?” I asked, wondering how I should approach the subject of the world of demons and monsters. If he knew about it already it would make things a lot easier. Unfortunately, Dean shook his head. Lee returned, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning. God I hope that good mood wasn't going anywhere.

“So,” he said, totally unaware of the traumas that lay ahead, “I know a great little coffee place!”


	16. Sixteen

I drummed my nails against the cheap white porcelain mug clasped in my fingers. The coffee was long since gone, and only the stained rings inside of the cup remained. Lee sat opposite me in the booth, leaning back against the red, wipe clean plastic padding. His face was pale, eyes pinched as he worked hard to process everything I'd said to him.

The conversation had been light and, well, normal as he'd told me about his life so far. I sat through stories of his first pets, the times he'd gone on vacation with his family, and how he'd crashed his first car. As alien as all that was to me, it had nothing on the tales I had to tell when he asked for my story in return. I could have lied easily, smiled and laughed my way through some fantasy life that he'd never be able to disprove. But that wasn't going to help our situation. Honesty was certainly the best policy. It was just unfortunate that the truth was so unbelievable. No man in their right mind would sit and listen to stories of skin walkers, witches, demons and hunters. And yet, he was still here. To his credit, Lee hadn't walked away. Though he looked like he was sorely tempted.

For the third time in ten minutes he opened his mouth, then closed it again, thinking better of whatever had come to mind. Patiently, I waited. Soon he did the same, though this time managed to ask, “Demons?”

“Yep,” I replied quickly.

“Like... biblical?” he clarified.

“Pretty much.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” I asked. He didn't look okay. I thought he might cry or something. Should I try to hold his hand? Or offer a hug? Emotions were so awkward. The silence was stifling, so I said, “I don't expect you to just accept this. If you have questions I'm happy to answer them.”

“Are you on medication?” he asked.

Well – that wasn't really the type of question I'd hoped for but it was a start. I smiled despite the seriousness of the conversation and said, “No, I'm not. Though I admit sometimes I think I should be.”

“But you think you are a – you know – a er –”

“Monster?”

“You're not a monster,” Lee said a little louder than I'd have liked, “I mean, you're my sister and you're a little nuts and everything, but you shouldn't demean yourself and say you're a – you know?”

Oh, he was so cute. Dean should take a note out of his book. I couldn't get caught up in admiring how much of a dork my older brother was. I needed him to understand how real and serious this was. I cleared my throat softly and said, “Lee, I'm sorry but this is what it is. I wish I had time to walk you through it with baby steps, but I don't. If you really didn't know what you are, then it's our job to keep you and your parents safe. A demon knows about you. Right now he's sort of,” I didn't want to say Crowley was being held prisoner, “Indisposed, courtesy of Bobby, but I don't think he's going to stay that way forever. Please, will you just trust me for a little while until we can get this dealt with?”

“Bobby as in your guardian?”

“Yeah, he's a hunter. So are Sam and Dean.”

“So Sam isn't your boyfriend?”

I laughed quietly, “No, I just needed to give him a reason for being there.”

“And the guy in the coat?”

“Castiel,” at least he'd be happy that we'd dropped the act, “He's an angel.”

“I take it you don't just mean he's a really nice guy.”

“No I mean wings and God and all that,” I clarified, “I know, it's weird.”

“An angel in a trench coat,” Lee mused to himself. He dropped his head and sighed softly. I should have brought pictures or some kind of evidence with me. All I had was my word. I mean, I could have taken him out on a hunt so he could see it first hand, but with demons out looking for him I might as well be gift wrapping him for Crowley by putting him in the line of fire.

“Got a pen?” I asked. Lee obliged and handed over an expensive silver ballpoint atrocity which probably cost more than most people earned in a year. I scrawled the address of our motel on a napkin, along with my room number. I didn't have a burner cell phone. With no one to have contact me, it seemed like a waste of money. Now I was hanging out with the Winchesters I should probably invest in one. I pushed the napkin and pen over towards Lee and said, “If anything happens to your or your parents, you come to this address and find me. We want to help you.”

“I think I should be saying that to you,” Lee caught my hands in his fingers and held on tight, “I don't know what those people you're spending time with have done to you, but you have to know that this isn't real. Are you sure you can trust them?”

“I trust them more than I trust myself,” I pulled my hands free and slid out of the booth, “If you see anyone with black eyes, you run. Don't lose that address.”

Lee didn't follow me out of the café. I was kind of glad of a few moments of solitude. Although I knew the others weren't far away, I didn't have to fake a smile, or pretend that the meeting had been easy. I was so envious of Lee. He'd had the kind of life I had longed for as a child. Two doting parents, friends, an education, a career. Hell, a little stability wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Then again, I wasn't blindly staggering around the world, completely vulnerable to the creatures in the dark. Now I knew what was out there, there was no going back to an ordinary life. I'd be forever looking over my shoulder, wondering about the true heritage of the people who passed me in the street. I would live my life waiting for death to catch up.

Death always caught up.

I spotted Bobby across the street and picked my way carefully through the traffic to meet him. He put a hand on my shoulder when I was close enough and asked, “What'd he say?”

“I don't think he believed me,” I admitted, “But he listened, and I gave him the address of the motel. It's in his hands now.”

“You don't think we should get someone watchin' the house?” Bobby asked.

“I don't know,” I chewed my lip while I thought it over, “Not sure that he'd appreciate that. And his parents don't know. If they spot Sam and Dean lurking outside they'd probably call the police.”

“I know I would,” Bobby said.

I chuckled softly and then let out a long breath. For all my envy and all that longing for a regular life, I really did feel more comfortable in the company of hunters. I couldn't have both, it had to be one or the other. At a loss I asked, “What now?”

“Well,” Bobby checked his watch, “I'd say we grab a bite, go back to the motel, and wait it out.”

“Doesn't really feel all that pro-active,” I muttered, “I prefer actual hunting, where you go outside and chase things. Not, you know, sitting on my arse.”

“Look, it's enough that the guy listened to what you had to say. Okay so he thinks we're nuts, but at least it's a start. If he wants our help he'll come find us, and if he doesn't then he can deal with this alone. We got Crowley trussed up, and he ain't gonna be comin' after us tonight.”

“I get it, evening off,” I smirked.

Or at least that was the plan. What happened didn't really pan out the way we'd predicted.


	17. Seventeen

I'd kind of hoped that I could spend the evening with Castiel. It was weird given I had tried to push him away at first, but in for a penny, in for a pound. It was clear the other suspected there was something between us. Besides the fact Castiel had been missing the entire previous evening, I had forgotten just how thin the walls between motel rooms really were. Dean kept casting furtive glances at Castiel. I could see his feet tapping away in the way he twitched in his seat. He was itching to say something to us, or make a joke, but with Bobby present he was too scared. I didn't blame him, I was nervous too.

“I don't think this guy is turning up,” Dean said at last, turning attention towards the most important task at hand rather than my love life.

“Maybe we should have patrolled outside the house,” I lamented, “At least we'd have an idea of what's going on.”

“It's not too late,” Sam said, “We could drive by the house now. Want us to take a look?”

“I don't think that's necessary,” Castiel said in that gravelly voice of his, the one that had started to give me goosebumps. Damn it, where was my brain? I had to focus on something other than that trench coat wearing idiot.

“Why the hell not?” Bobby asked.

“Because Lee just ran past the window toward Evelyn's room.”

I was out of my seat so fast I knocked the thing over. After I wrenched open the door I ran to the man who was hammering a fist against my door. When I grasped his wrist he turned sharply, hand raised like he was about to hit me. Upon seeing it was me, he wrapped his arms around me and clung tight, “Oh God,” he whimpered pathetically, “I didn't think that it was – I mean my parents were – oh my God!”

“I think maybe we should go inside,” I choked out, “And you should let me go.”

“Right, right, sorry!” he apologised profusely in his panic and pushed his fingers through his untidy hair. His clothes were spattered with blood, his jeans were torn. It looked like he'd been chased down by something. Poor guy, if only he'd been quicker to believe me we could have avoided all of this. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, he cast his wide eyes over the men behind me, “You er – you're all into this, right? Please, I need help!”

“Yeah, we can see that,” Dean cleared his throat and jerked his head in the direction of their room which contained the most weapons, “Come on, kid. We'll keep you safe.”

“But my parents – they had my parents!” Lee exclaimed in terror, “What if they kill them! I can't just – I can't leave them there!”

“Take it easy, man,” Sam was forever the voice of reason, “We'll go back and help them, but first you need to come inside where you can't be seen, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” Lee responded, nodding furiously, the adrenalin still pumping through his system. The poor guy was trembling all over when he got into the motel room. Dean closed the door and made a salt line around all the entrances. Once hunters were on a job, they worked on autopilot. Before Lee could ask what we were planning to do we were all armed to the teeth with shotguns, silver knives, salt rounds, and holy water. Lee sat useless and afraid on the edge of one of the beds. I was sure he'd have helped if he could, but the best thing he could do for us was to stay out of the way. Even if he had the blood of other creatures in his veins, that didn't mean he could tap into those abilities. Hell, the most useful thing I could do was to turn into a dog. I might have flung Sam clear across a room but I had no idea how I'd managed to do it. I didn't even feel confident enough in that little trick to hurl a lamp, let alone an attacking demon.

“Are you going to kill anyone?” Lee asked.

“We will exorcise or kill the demons, yes,” Castiel said, “And you are going to stay here until our return.”

“Alone?” Lee almost squeaked.

“Maybe someone should stay,” Bobby said and gave me a hard look. I opened my mouth to argue, but he snapped, “Damn it, Evie. You're on their radar too, you know? I want you as far from them black eyed sons o'bitches as possible. If you stay here you'll be safe.”

“No, if I stay here I'll be out of the way,” I snarled, “I'm a hunter too, Bobby. I've been doing this on my own for years. I don't need protecting!”

“No, but I do!” Bobby snapped, “I can't lose you, idjit! I have lost so many people already, too many! Your parents, John Winchester, hell I've lost these boys more times than I can count! I ain't arguin' this with you, you stay here with your brother, you keep them salt lines fixed, and you don't go runnin' after us when we're gone!”

Castiel took the gun from my hands as if he was afraid I was about to take a shot at Bobby in my anger. To my surprise, he leaned in and kissed me tenderly on the top of the head. In a low voice he whispered, “Please, just stay.”

“How can I say no to that?” I asked bitterly.

“And that's somethin' else we'll be talkin' about when I'm back,” Bobby warned.

“If you need me, you call the motel phone, got it?” I asked.

Sam patted me on the back on his way out, “Stay safe.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

The door slammed and I went to tidy up the salt line behind it. The silence was deafening. On the wall a clock ticked down each painful, worrisome second that they were away. I paced, like a tiger in captivity, I was a predator stuck in my cage. Lee seemed content to wait it out. I guess the apple pie life didn't really prepare people for this kind of a situation. He was a nice guy, and an ex soldier, but not the kind of man used to dealing with all the supernatural stuff most humans tried to ignore.

“Do you think my parents are okay?” Lee asked after about an hour when he seemed to have regained control of his nerves.

“Sure,” I lied, “The guys will bring them back here, and we can get you somewhere safe.”

“What – er – what's with the salt?” he asked.

“Keeps out demons and evil spirits,” I shrugged, “That's kind of hunter one-oh-one right there.”

He nodded just once. I thought he was taking this kind of well. Okay so this wasn't the sort of thing you could cope with easily, but he was coming around to the reality of the situation faster than some people did. I'd known mortal to be freaking out about monsters for hours after an initial attack and rescue. Lee got up and peeked out of the window, “I don't see anyone else out there,” he said, “I guess I outran them.”

“Did you get a look at how many demons were chasing you?”

“No,” he sighed, “I was too busy running. I feel awful, I shouldn't have left my parents there alone. Maybe if I had done more –”

“There's nothing you could do,” I said, “Once demons get in, you need a hunter's help to deal with it. By coming here, well, you've given your parents the best shot they have of being saved.”

Lee put a hand over his mouth. There were tears in his eyes. Before he totally lost it, he wrapped his arms back around me and held me tight against his chest, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Evelyn.”

“Don't apologise to me,” I patted his back gently, “You haven't done anything.”

“But – I have – I've done so much...”

“Seriously? You?” I laughed softly, “What could you have possibly done?”

“I – I,” the sobbing stopped abruptly and the whimper of sorrow in his voice was replaced with a business like tone, “I went to Bobby Singer's house and let Crowley out of the basement.”

“You – you what?” I asked and pushed him off. I drew a knife and held it up in warning, “Say that again, Lee.”

“I went to Bobby Singer's house and I let Crowley out of the basement,” he rolled his eyes as if my idiocy was a bother to him, “And then I ran to this motel, got rid of your little friends, and now I'm going to let the demons in.”

“You take one step toward the salt line and I'll tear your throat out, demon,” I warned.

“Oh, sweetheart, you think I'm being possessed?” Lee laughed, “That's adorable! No, I'm just a really good actor. Also, I don't need to take a step,” he winked, then waved a hand toward the door. The salt scattered under his influence, the invisible force he exerted able to break the line easily. Lee gave me a puppy-dog expression and in a mocking tone said, “Whoops!”

The door flew open and through it strolled Crowley. For a guy who'd been bleeding profusely the previous day, he was in pretty good condition. With a fresh suit and a sly smile, he closed the door quietly behind himself, and asked, “Miss me, darling?”

“You're working with him?” I asked Lee incredulously, “Him?!”

“For me,” Crowley corrected, “You see he isn't a stubborn brat, unlike someone else I know.”

“Yeah I'm starting to see that,” I growled, “So you're not happy with one lap dog, you need another one?”

“I like to think of Lee more as an adopted son,” Crowley reasoned, “After all, I've had my demons watching over him since he was just a nipper. I like to protect my investments. Your parents almost blew the whole bloody deal the last time they were in Oregon.”

“They came here for him?”

“Thought they should get him away from the nasty old demons,” Crowley explained, “Wanted to take him back and raise him up themselves. But Lee wasn't all that happy with that arrangement, were you, boy?”

“No, Sir,” Lee answered, “They exorcised the demons inside those meat-sacks that were trying to raise me, and then they gave me a choice, I go with them or I die. I chose death, but Mom always was way too soft for her own good, she couldn't pull the trigger, so she left me to the mercy of the other hunters she'd dragged along with her,” he laughed, “God they were weak. I was a kid, and I still managed to tear them apart. I wanted to hurt that bitch, I wanted to break her.”

“So you tried to kill her?” I asked.

“No, I tried to kill you,” Lee growled back, “I was taught to use what's inside of me since I was adopted. I can possess other people, and it was so easy to take over her body. I was going to make her kill you with her own hands, break her from the inside. But you,” his face was thunderous with fury, “You sobbed, and you flailed, and then you raised your hands and expelled me from her body before I could finish the job.”

“I don't make a habit of enjoying killing people, but my God it's going to be hard not to find slitting your throat fun,” I fumed.

“Now now,” Crowley walked between us, “Don't make Daddy turn this car around, kids.”

“I am so going to end you,” I warned, “Why, in the name of everything evil, did you bother coming after me when you had him? And why make me go on this stupid freaking chase to find him when you could have grabbed me at any time?!”

“I wanted to have a little fun, I needed to see how easy you were to push,” Crowley said in that same light tone he always used, “I tested the threat of blackmail at the house, but you were just too eager to come clean with Moose and the rest of the super forest friends club. So then I pushed harder, and you still ran to them, like a good little puppy.”

“Of course I did! You really think I was going to lie to the only people who really give a damn about me?”

“If you had it would have made your life so much easier. Then you fools had to go and trap me, and I needed my pet to let me out. So I sent you here, and you told Lee exactly where to find me. Stubborn you might be, but at least I can count on your stupidly predictable nature.”

“If you do anything to me, they'll know who was behind it. They won't stop hunting you down,” I threatened, “And I'm going to go down fighting.”

“Yes, I realise that,” Crowley said, “Which is exactly why I have no intention of killing you. For one, it would ruin my suit. For another thing, I wouldn't waste so much time on this game if that was the prize at the end. I could have killed you so many times over by now. No, I am going to break you. When I'm done with you, the Winchesters won't recognise you, and you won't remember that they're your friends.”

“What are you intending to do to me?”

“I'm going to turn you into the monster your dear uncle Bobby is so afraid of seeing you become.”


	18. Eighteen

Seconds felt like hours.

Hours felt like days.

And the days? Well, you can imagine without my having to say it.

That night Bobby Singer, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Castiel would have returned to an empty motel room. There'd be signs of a struggle, some blood, but no bodies. Only the lingering smell of sulphur and the question of what might have happened in their absence.

Life for hunters moved on. It had to. It didn't pay to dwell on the past. While they picked up new cases, killed more monsters, they probably tried to look for me. But they didn't look hard enough.

I didn't break easily, but everyone had their limits. The emotional abuse, the physical torture and the psychological attacks were just too much. But nothing compared to the knowledge that I had been abandoned. After a life lived alone I should have known that I couldn't rely on other people, but those short few days in the company on the Winchesters had lured me into believing that I might have people to miss me. That maybe, just maybe, they would come bursting through the door with guns blazing to take me home.

They never did.

It was my first time outside of my cage in months. I was on a short leash, of course, my masters never too far away. I was allowed out to hunt. They gave me the names of the targets, took me to the locations, and then let me go. I was a weapon, a bullet almost, something they could aim and then release to achieve a fatal goal. Somewhere inside my humanity cowered away, eyes closed, hands over her ears. Trying to block out the sounds of screams, the begging, the pleas of mercy. The people who implored me to remember that I was one of them, that they had known my parents, that we were friends. I didn't have friends any more, certainly not among their kind. I only knew how to kill, how to shred, how to destroy.

Hunters were the enemy.

Word spread of the attacks, hardly surprising when something was strong enough to go after seasoned hunters. They were a tight community, not always willing to work together but keen to get their hands dirty if it meant avenging one of their own. I was public enemy number one, and the thrill that gave me was obscene.

I found myself stood outside a roadhouse in Nebraska. I was alone, my handlers now having enough faith in my abilities and loyalty that they were happy for me to be unsupervised. The windows were dark, it was past midnight, and the bar had closed up. All of the regulars had been turfed out by now. Fine by me, I was only there to catch one of them.

Ellen Harvelle.

I wasn't really the sneaky type. It wasn't like a hunter was going to best me for physical prowess. I knew how to utilise the strengths I had been born with. They'd been honed, perfected, and practised over months spent in captivity. I could create the hallucinations of a djinn, wield the telekinesis of a demon, enforce the subjugation of mortals like a siren, shift as a skin walker, and conjure like a witch. I was the weapon Hell had always dreamt of having.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I approached the front door. I took a moment to consider whether the thing would have any kind of explosive device attached to the other side, but they wouldn't get a whole lot of repeat business if they were blowing up their patrons as soon as they tried to enter the building. It would probably be locked, though. Lock picking was a time consuming task so I did the only sensible thing, I raised my leg and kicked the damn thing open. The wood splintered and with a crash, the door flew open. It slammed back against the wall on its hinges.

The bar was quiet, and my entrance hadn't caused armed hunters to come pouring into the room to apprehend me. A man lay on a pool table at the far end of the room. In the dark I could make out his flannel print shirt, his long hair, and the fact he wasn't moving. He obviously wasn't Ellen Harvelle, so he didn't matter all that much to me in the grand scheme of things. An animal I might have been, but I was efficient and I was fair. I wouldn't just murder someone for the fun of it, not if their name wasn't on my list.

I sniffed at the air. There had been women here, one older and one younger. I assumed Ellen was the older. Somewhere at the back of my mind I had a vague memory of her face. It was a smiling face, she was happy to see me, holding me in her arms. That little piece of humanity scrabbled around, clawing at the animal, trying desperately to fight back against my instincts to continue the hunt. I silenced it easily, forcing away that weak and pathetic part of myself until it hid again, trying to block out the horror of what was to come.

I heard the click of a round being lined up inside of a gun. It was fired from behind, and I dropped to the ground with inhuman speed, rolled to the side and stood to face my attacker. I held my own weapon and trained it on the girl. Still not Ellen.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, “Get out!”

“I'm looking for Ellen Harvelle.”

“Yeah? Well you ain't findin' her here, lady!” she sent another round into the chamber in threat, “I'm not askin' again! Get out!”

Another gun audibly loaded and aimed at my back. The man on the pool table was awake, and he was armed. I wasn't afraid to die, that was something Crowley had made sure of. I was just a tool, one he would probably find a way to bring back if I was damaged somehow. But for the sake of reaching my target, I held my hands up as if in surrender. I smiled, laughed softly, and lied, “I'm a hunter, I just wanted to see her.”

“Evelyn?” a woman asked when she appeared through a door beside the bar. I turned slowly to face her. She had fair hair, and had the look of an experienced killer about her. She looked me up and down in shock, “I thought you were – I mean – Evelyn, what're you doin' here?”

“Can't pay a visit to an old friend?” I asked.

“You've been missin' nearly a year,” she said in disbelief, “Do you know how many hunters have been tryin' to find you?”

“I have a pretty good idea,” I chuckled. There was no humour in it, it was a cold and cruel noise, one I wasn't sure I could believe had come from my mouth.

“Does Bobby know you're here?”

“Bobby Singer?” I shrugged, “Haven't made it over his way yet. You'd have heard about it if I had, trust me.”

“Mom, who is she?” Jo asked.

“Know what? I ain't sure right now,” Ellen kept her distance and didn't dare to lower her weapon, “Because you sure as hell ain't Evelyn.”

“No?” I asked, “Maybe I'm more Evelyn now than I was when I was just some snivelling little weakling?”

“Evelyn wasn't weak,” Ellen argued, “And you're a monster in her skin.”

“Oh, sweetie,” I tutted, “The only monsters I see here, are you freaks.”

In the following hail of gunfire I took a few bullets to my arms, legs and torso. I wasn't about to let that slow me down, and shot Jo in the shoulder, Ellen in the thigh, and then turned on Ash. As soon as I span around I was hit in the temple with the butt of his shotgun and dropped backwards onto the ground. Dazed, but not unconscious, I kicked out against his knee. He staggered away but before I could get a clear head shot, a bottle was smashed against my head, and out went the lights.


	19. Nineteen

I was used to cages by now. This was a typical hunter dungeon of sorts. A devil trap on the floor, iron bars, iron chains, and symbols all over the walls. I rolled my eyes. Seriously? They thought this was going to hold me? Damn, my head was hurting. I blinked against the veil of darkness. I was alone in this basement room, my only company the steady drip of water and the stench of damp rising from the foundations. I could have broken out of here and made a break for it, but what was the point? I was just going to have to come back later and finish the job. No, it was better to wait, and to see if Ellen was going to call Bobby Singer here. It would save me a trip if I could kill them all during one outing.

And call Bobby she had.

Their feet were heavy on the stairs, no grace in their movements, clumsy and insignificant sacks of meat. They talked in hushed tones, but I could make out some of it.

“I'm tellin' ya,” Ellen said, “She ain't got an ounce of herself in there. I tried an exorcism while she was out and it didn't do a dang thing.”

“They might have taken her soul,” Bobby reasoned, “Wouldn't be the first person to go nuts over somethin' like that.”

“Well I hope you can get it back, because else we're gonna have to kill her.”

That was when the door opened and they flicked on the lights. I greeted them with a smile despite my banged up appearance. My bonds bit into my skin, and my wounds still seeped blood beneath the bandages Ellen had been so kind to wrap around them, but none of that mattered. Here they were, the hunters who had left me to my fate. The hunters who hadn't stepped in before I became this creature.

“Surprise,” I purred at Bobby before I threw him a wink and asked, “Did you miss me?”

“Evelyn, my God, what in the name o'hell happened to you?”

“The Harvelle bitches shot me,” I said. Dramatically I gasped in mock realisation, “Oh! You mean what happened to my humanity? I sold it on the internet, sorry.”

“Evelyn!” Sam almost fell over himself trying to get into the room. He stopped behind Bobby, and was soon joined by Dean and Castiel. All three look horrified at the sight of me.

Well, at least I was having a good time. Gleefully I exclaimed, “It's like a family reunion! Oh except, you're not my family. Anyway,” I grinned, “How's it going?”

“What the hell..?” Dean asked, “I don't even – what did Crowley do to you?!”

“Some beatings, some torture, some abuse,” I shrugged, “As far as vacations go I wouldn't recommend it. I mean,” softly, I laughed again, “I don't think they get a lot of repeat business at the Crowley Hotel but it is definitely an experience.”

Castiel tried to approach me but Ellen was quick to stop him. She shook her head firmly, “I don't think you wanna do that, Cas'.”

“I might be able to expel whatever is inside of her.”

“Nothing's inside of me,” I sneered, “Besides a lot of resentment for the group of idiots that couldn't pick up on a demon trail to come and find me. I was trying to save you guys for last so I could really enjoy wringing the life right on out of you, but here you are, bad timing as always.”

“You are not Evelyn Marshall,” Castiel persisted, “I know her, and you are a parasite.”

“Parasite? The only parasite here is – eurgh – is – God!” I swore and closed my eyes tight. Something was twisting inside of me. I could feel it fighting, tearing, screaming to get out. In my head I told it to shut it's damn mouth, to get back into the shadows. It was a weak, worthless part of me, a part I wanted to quickly die so I could stop having these feeble flashes of kindness and conscience.

“What is it?” Sam asked Castiel desperately, “A demon?”

“No, she has demon inside of her already, I don't believe another could invade her body in this way.”

“Shut up!” I snapped at anyone who was making noise, “Shut up, shut up!” I hardly recognised my own voice. It was deeper, hollow, and echoed from the walls. It wasn't just mine, it was also –

“Lee?” Bobby asked in horror.

“Who the hell is Lee?” Ellen pointed her gun at me.

“Her brother,” Castiel explained, “Lee Sampson. He went missing the same time she did. We assumed that Crowley had taken them both but –”

“But maybe Lee was in on it the whole damn time!” Dean finished, “What the hell are you doing in there, ass hat?!”

“Do you know why I called myself Lee?” the voice asked through my lips, “Lee is short for Legion.”

Bobby looked startled, “Son of a bitch.”

“Legion?” Sam pushed a hand through his hair, “As in, Legion for we are many?”

“And I have consumed so many,” Lee chuckled past my mouth, “I have fused with demons, and monsters, and now I will take my missing half and become more powerful than my masters. I will take Hell for my own!”

“Yeah? Well try to take Hell when we've dragged you out of there, you sorry son of a bitch!” Dean challenged, “Cas', use your angel hoodoo on him!”

“I can't,” the angel lamented.

“Why not?” Ellen demanded, “Damn it, Castiel! If we don't do somethin' there won't be anything of Evelyn left to save in there!”

“If I use my power to drive out Lee, I could burn out the host. Evelyn will be free of him, but she will die.”

“So what, we just let him ride around inside of her?” Dean grasped the angel by the collar, “We can't do that, man!”

“Dean,” Castiel pried his friend's fingers from his person calmly, “Believe me when I say I am as desperate as the rest of you to save Evelyn, but I cannot do so without causing more harm.”

Lee laughed. It was a slow chuckle at first which quickly escalated to a maniacal cackle, “You're so pathetic, it's no wonder Crowley runs circles around you hunters. There's nothing left of Evelyn for you to save,” he lied, “She fought me so hard, she had real spirit, but I broke her down from the inside. All that's left is the shell.”

“You're lying,” Sam told him, “Evelyn wouldn't give in to you, she would never stop fighting.”

“You tell yourself that, Sammy, if it makes you feel better,” Lee tilted his – er – my head to the side and ran my tongue over my lips, “When I consumed her soul, it was divine.”

Of all the people in the room, Castiel was the last I would have expected to cave into his emotions. But Lee's words had pushed him too far, and the angel slammed his fist into my cheek. My head snapped to the side, and Lee laughed again. He knew that Castiel was hurting the pair of us at the same time, that I was still alive somewhere inside and could see all of this as it happened. Castiel held my face in both his hands with a vice like grip, “Evelyn, if you're in there, you have to fight him!”

“She's not in here,” Lee taunted in a sing-song voice.

“Evelyn!” he persisted in the gravelly voice I loved so much, “Fight!”

“Sorry, Evelyn can't come to the phone right now. How about you leave a message?”

Castiel wrinkled his nose and hesitated barely a second before he pressed his mouth over mine. Behind him, Dean and Sam made noises of disgust. He was technically kissing Lee, it must have taken a lot for him to stomach going through with such an act. While the monster in my body was repelled by the physical contact, that little piece of humanity inside was stirring.

The warmth of it, the feeling that it conveyed, all of it was so much stronger than anything Lee could wield over me. His attack was aggressive, but there was real strength in the bonds I had forged with Castiel. Okay so maybe we'd known each other a couple of days, and maybe it was just a stupid dream that we could actually make a go of things, but he had done something no other man had ever managed to do. He'd broken the walls I'd built up around my heart, and he'd made me feel like I was actually worth something.

Castiel drew back when Lee threw my head back, cursing in some forgotten language in such a booming voice it made the walls quake and quiver. The hunters clasped their hands over their ears and backed off as far as the confines of the room would allow. The air was dark and suffocating, pressing in from every angle, choking my physical form. For all the thrashing and the shrieking, Lee just couldn't maintain the level of control he'd held over me until now. While I'd been emotionally broken he had worn me away easily, been able to convince me that I was unwanted and hated by these people. It had been easy to forget in all my misery the way Sam would pat me on the head, the sly little smirks Dean threw in my direction, how Bobby had hugged me when we'd been reunited, and the way Castiel's arms felt around me.

“No!” Lee shrieked, “NO! I will not lose to you, you are nothing! NOTHING!”

He wouldn't utter another word with my voice, not if I had anything to do with it. The light which filled the room emanated from my eyes and mouth. It was a pure glow, blinding and unearthly. Castiel ordered the others, “Close your eyes!” before it reached an unbearable level. They threw their arms up to shield themselves, and inside I felt it burn through me. It was purging the monster from every fibre of my being.

When it was over my body slumped. It had been exhausting and had taken almost everything I had. Blood trickled from my nose, eyes, ears and the corners of my mouth. Never had I experienced anything like it, and I hoped I never would again. The hunters cautiously lowered their arms when they felt it was safe.

“Evelyn?” Bobby said my name hesitantly. When I coughed and more blood spilled over my chin he hurried to unbind me, “Balls! Evelyn, you hang in there, you hear me?”

I did hear him, but I couldn't do what he wanted.

Everything hurt, and I was so tired.

The darkness welcomed me.


	20. Twenty

“Buddy, starin' at her ain't gonna wake her up no faster,” Ash said from somewhere far away. It was dark still, at least to me. There was a clink as a bottle cap hit the wooden bar, “She's a tough little cookie, stop worryin' already.”

“She had a symbiotic demon creature inside of her,” Castiel reminded him, “I think worrying is only natural.”

“Your call, compadre, just sayin' that she'll come round on her own.”

“Beer might make me wake up faster,” I said in a hoarse voice before I tried blinking my eyes open. It wasn't anywhere near as bright as the last thing I had seen, this was something I was incredibly grateful for. I winced when I tried to sit up, and Castiel held a hand on my shoulder to keep me still.

“Don't,” he pleaded, “Not yet.”

“When did you get so bossy?” I asked, “I was only gone a few months.”

“You were gone too long,” Castiel corrected, “I am sorry that I couldn't find you sooner, and that you were subjected to –”

“It's okay,” I assured him.

“No, it isn't,” the angel sighed heavily, like the weight of guilt he felt at not coming to my rescue was crushing down on him, “I should have sensed that Lee was not to be trusted.”

“He fooled all of us.”

“Damn right he did,” Bobby's familiar gruff voice rumbled, “And we have no idea where to find him now.”

“He got away?” I asked.

“We can't be certain that he did,” Castiel said, “The light that came from you could have completely eradicated him, or it could have just driven him out. If he's still alive, I imagine he has returned to Crowley.”

There was a name I hoped I'd never have to hear again. I reached a hand up to Castiel's jacket and used the leverage it gave to pull myself into a sitting position. I was lying on a pool table, like some common drunk, but that wasn't the most important thing. My head span and I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “Okay,” I said when I was sure I wasn't going to throw up, “Who's driving?”

“You're not going anywhere,” Castiel said, “You almost died in that room.”

“Well I'd like to celebrate the fact I didn't by killing my big brother,” I retorted, “Because you know what? He really made a mess in here, and he didn't clean up after he left.”

“You realise how weird that sounds?” Dean asked.

“Didn't sound so weird in my head.”

“How did that not sound weird?”

“Dean, when I can feel my legs I am going to kick your arse,” I threatened. He laughed, and I had to smile. I hadn't felt like myself in a really long time, and I had missed being me. Ash had taken my request for a beer seriously and brought a cold can over. It couldn't hurt, and I cracked it open to knock back the amber nectar inside. I hadn't really tasted food or drink in forever. Lee had taken that liberty from me. It was like I was just some shadow, I knew there were things around me, but I couldn't reach out and touch them for myself.

“I want to know what that light was,” Sam said, “I don't want to freak you out but didn't that look kind of, you know, angelic to you guys?”

“It did?” I asked, “Sam, honestly, all I remember is screaming something really obscene from inside and the next thing I know it was lights out.”

“He's right, it did look rather like an angelic glow,” Castiel reasoned, “But Crowley never mentioned you having that in your bloodline.”

“But he did say that your grandmother had gone missin' for a while,” Bobby recalled, “You think maybe she got together with a vessel? Or some nephilim?”

“A neph-what?” I asked stupidly.

“It's a human and angel hybrid, they're exceptionally rare,” Castiel shrugged, “But it is a plausible explanation.”

“Lee told me that he possessed my mother last time we were in Oregon, and he tried to kill me, but I managed to force him out of her. Maybe I was using some angel mojo to expel him,” I said, “Anyone we can ask?”

“I don't know that I want to call any other angels into this,” Castiel shook his head, “My brothers might not take kindly to a hybrid being allowed to walk the Earth.”

“Ashamed to introduce me to your family?” I teased.

Castiel still couldn't take a joke. He brought my fingers to his lips and kissed them tenderly before he declared, “I would proudly show you off to my brothers, if only I thought they wouldn't eradicate you on sight.”

“That is the sweetest thing,” I laughed, “Saving me from angelic obliteration.”

“Can you two save this for later?” Bobby asked, “You're makin' me nauseous.”

If Bobby thought that was going to put me off, he was dead wrong. I took hold of Castiel's tie and pulled him in close before I landed a kiss on his mouth. As far as I was concerned, that other one hadn't counted. Lee had been present at the time, and I wanted this kiss all to myself. Castiel didn't object, and I felt his tongue snake past my lips to join mine. His fingers raked through my dark tresses and I brought my arms around his neck. It was like that first gulp of air when you break the water's surface, being able to breathe freely again after holding back for longer than you could stand. Castiel was to my soul what oxygen was to my lungs.

Life.

“Well, this is officially awkward,” Dean commented. 

Jo punched him in the arm, “Cram it, it's sweet.”

“No, it's really awkward,” Sam agreed with his brother.

“Seconded! Or, thirded,” Ash said.

It was when an unfamiliar voice said, “I don't know if I should applaud or puke,” that our kiss abruptly ended.

The man had brown hair, eyes which almost glittered gold, and was dressed in casual jeans, burgundy shirt and an olive green jacket. With a smile that was all mischief he nodded in greeting. Dean didn't look particularly happy to see him and asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Gabriel?”

“Oh come on now boys, you're secretly happy to see me.”

“Gabriel? Like the archangel?” I asked.

“The one and only,” he winked, “And you must be Evelyn. Enchanted to meet you at last.”

“You've heard of me?”

“We both have,” a blonde man said in a British accent, “Balthazar, by the way. I trust you've heard nothing about me from my dear brother Castiel?”

“Not a damn thing.”

“Excellent,” he clapped his hands together, “I look forward to surprising you with all my delicious habits.”

“Why are you two here?” Castiel asked, disdain for his siblings clear in his voice. As if he was afraid one of these two angels might just carry me off the pool table, he brought his arms around me protectively. I wasn't sure what to make of that. Even though I'd nearly died, I felt like I could take care of myself. No wonder Crowley called me stubborn.

“Relax,” Gabriel sat on a nearby table, “Who have I gotta give salvation to in order to get a beer around here?”

“That'd be me,” Ellen told him.

“Oooh, hello bar-wench,” the angel looked her up and down openly, “Wanna crack me open a cold one?”

“Call me a bar-wench one more time and the only thing that'll get cracked open is your skull.”

“I like you,” Gabriel said before he made a purring noise at her.

“You're seriously worried about these jokers killing me?” I asked Castiel.

“They're still angels, and not completely trustworthy.”

“That hurts, Cas',” Balthazar held a hand over his chest like he was wounded, “It's true, but it still hurts.”

“How about we focus?” Dean said in a commanding voice, “Tell us why you're here before I blast your angelic asses all the way back to St. Peter.”

“You're always so feisty, Dean,” Gabriel shuddered like the hunter had given him chills, “We just felt a huge outpouring of angelic mojo and flapped on over to see what the ruckus was. Would you rather it had been someone else? Because last I checked, we're the only angels who don't want to string you up by the short and curlies.”

“The mojo would be me,” I said and waved my hand a little, “Hi.”

“Well it was incredibly impressive, so much so that if you don't get your backsides out of here, you're going to have a lot of angelic company zoning in on you,” Balthazar informed us, “So, how about we all vamoose to somewhere a little more secure?”

“My place is empty now Crowley is out of the basement,” Bobby said, “If we ward the panic room against angels then Evie can take shelter in there until we figure out what the hell to do with her.”

“Perfect,” Dean grabbed his car keys from his pocket, “Let's go.”


	21. Twenty-One

The first thing I did when we got back to Bobby's was to go to the panic room. Inside of those iron walls I was supposedly safe. Outside the hunters and angels talked about what was to be done. But that was all it was – talk. While I paced this new prison I thought about what my life was going to be like from now on. I was as hunted as every other monster. For some reason the angels wanted me, possibly because of the abomination I was. Castiel had called me such a thing when we'd first met, and I had gathered by now that he was perhaps one of the most open minded angels out there. The others wouldn't let something like me walk the Earth. I was a danger to others, and I was easily controlled, as Crowley and Lee had already proven.

For hours they discussed strategies. Killing Crowley came up fairly often, and then how to remove all the angels who would try to hunt me down. We were vastly outnumbered, and all of this just for my sake felt like too much.

I really wished there was another way around it, but the only thing that came to my mind was death. Mine and my brother's. I was going to have to be the one to wipe out Lee. It was clear I had the power to somehow cancel him out, I had twice in my lifetime managed to force him from a host body, but the awful truth was that to completely destroy him I would need to sacrifice my life.

A lot of hunters would just let me do that, for the greater good of mankind they would pat me on the back and wish me luck with my suicide mission. But not the Winchesters. They'd be determined to save me, to go against all the odds to make sure that I stayed in their lives. And then there was Castiel. Sweet, wonderful Castiel. It was so selfish of me to want to save my own life just for one more day with him. Each moment I spent drawing breath, was another moment I placed the people I loved in mortal peril.

The only way I could make them agree to my plan, was to lie.

My fingers trembled as they worked to open the door of the panic room. I ascended the stairs, their voices getting louder as I approached. I lingered in silence on the other side of the door, ear pressed to the wood, just trying to take in the different tones. Sam's reasonable, kind voice. Bobby's sarcastic comments, and Ellen's aggressive reasoning. I loved how Dean used humour to mock the idiotic suggestions of others, and how Ash could switch from a fool to a genius without missing a beat. Jo had such a sweet, melodic tone when she wanted. Then there was Castiel. Each perfect roll of that gravelly voice made my stomach do back flips. I took a shuddering breath, willing myself not to cry. I had to act like I believed this ridiculous false plan would work, or they would never buy into it.

God, I was going to miss them when this was over.

With an expression of utmost determination fixed upon my face, I pushed the door open and strode into the room. Bobby got out of his seat first and demanded, “Get back downstairs, Evelyn! It ain't safe for you up here.”

“I have the company of some of the best hunters in the country, and three bad-ass angels, I think I'll be okay.”

“Yeah you will be,” Gabriel patted me heavily on the shoulder, “They're going to need something impressive to get past us.”

“Something like her brother,” Balthazar reminded the angel, “Which is exactly our concern right now. Angels and demons are one thing, they have weaknesses, but this Legion creature is new and we don't know how to face it.”

“Actually, we do,” I said, “I can burn him out the way I did before. I was weak at the roadhouse, I'd been suffering from months of torture. If I do the same thing as soon as he tries to merge with me, I should be able to eradicate him completely.”

“That's a pretty big if,” Ellen observed, “And there's no guaranteein' that he'll want to try to take yah over again so soon.”

“I think he will. He wanted to kill Crowley, but I'm guessing that he hasn't made that sentiment known to his boss. I can try to strike a deal with Lee, make it look like I'm all for killing the demon.”

“It's not the worst idea I've ever heard,” Sam reasoned, “If Lee's desperate enough he'll be eager to agree to it. I mean, he obviously doesn't have the juice to take on Crowley alone, otherwise he wouldn't have gone through with being his lap dog in the first place.”

“I don't like it,” Castiel interjected, “If this goes badly then Evelyn will certainly die, or worse, she'll never be able to expel Lee from her body. We'll lose you forever,” he took hold of my hands in his and made me meet his eyes, “I don't want to take that kind of risk.”

“Can you think of anything else that'll kill him?” I asked, “I know this doesn't solve the problem with the demons and angels on my tail, but it's a start. Without Lee around we'll all be a lot safer.”

“That's not the problem here,” the angel argued, “I can't – I can't lose you again, Evelyn. I will fight off every angel and demon that comes to take you away, and together we can kill your brother, so long as it means you're out of harm's way.”

“Oh man, and I promised myself I wouldn't cry,” Gabriel mocked.

Castiel didn't give his brother the satisfaction of a reaction. His gaze was unwavering when he said, “I will not allow you to be put at risk.”

The fact he was so good to me was breaking my heart over and over again. If I had just stuck to my own stupid rules and not let myself get close, then this wouldn't be so difficult. I squeezed his fingers gently in mine and reassured him with a sweet lie, “I won't get hurt. I – for God's sake I can't believe I'm saying this to anyone – I love you, Castiel, and I will do whatever it takes to make sure everything goes off without a hitch. I am the only one who can destroy Lee, and after that the demons and angels shouldn't be a problem to deal with.”

Because I'd be dead and they'd have no reason to track me down. But I didn't intend to say that out loud.

“Do you know how you can lure him in?” Sam asked, “I mean, he was easy to find before, but only because Crowley wanted us to walk right into his trap.”

“We're siblings, and he said I was his missing half,” I answered, “I guess that means if I really wanted to I could reach out to him mentally and summon him to me.”

“Simple as that?” Dean asked.

“Seriously, you think any of this is going to be simple?” I laughed, “If he does manage to overpower me somehow, you guys are going to have to kill me. I imagine that's going to take a lot of angel juice to pull off.”

“It isn't going to come to that,” Castiel said sternly, “It can't.”

“It always pays to have a plan B,” I winked, “You guys are going to have to hang back and let me call him on my own. Are there any forests nearby? Places you guys have a lot of cover to hide in if this goes south?”

“A few miles out,” Bobby said, “But we ain't just flyin' in there guns blazin'. This time we're plannin' it properly.”

“You're the boss,” I said, “What've you got in mind?”

The man could have planned an invasion of Europe if he really wanted to. While they talked about where they might have the best visuals or clearest shots with a gun, I sat in Castiel's lap on the sofa and listened with a glassy expression. This was the last time I would be in this house. I remembered when I used to draw on the floorboards with chalk, and Bobby would tell me that I should try something more useful than square houses. I'd learnt how to mark out a decent devils trap by the age of six thanks to him. And the first night I had been back here after the Winchesters had abducted me, I had slept on the sofa after getting exhausted reading through the dusty old books. It was in this room I had first seen Castiel, and here that he had broken me down and made me confess past sins.

It felt like a lifetime ago now.

I remembered how the angel had tried to kiss me when we'd been alone, and how my fears of what I might be able to do to him hadn't driven him away. He'd been so gentle with me, just like he was now, as if I was the most precious thing in Heaven and Earth to him. I blinked a few times, steeling my nerves against the devastating emotions which were trying to crack my heart to pieces in my chest. I wouldn't allow those memories to bring me sadness. They were my comfort, the things that would help me cling to my humanity in my final moments. It would help me to remember why I was giving my life.

It wasn't because I wanted to die, it was because I wanted these wonderful people to live.

I never wanted them to forget me.

“You listenin' over there?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” I grinned, “Just too busy thinking about how good it'll feel to get some payback on Lee.”

“The only thing you'll be gettin' is dead if you don't pay attention.”

“You should have more faith in me,” I chided, “I know exactly what I have to do, okay? No need to worry.”

“The day I stop worryin' about you, is the day I stop breathin'.”

Or the day I stopped breathing. Either way, that day was coming soon.


	22. Twenty-Two

This was the point of no return.

I stood alone in the clearing, the eyes of the hunters and the angels around me, watching, waiting for the enemy to arrive.

“Lee!” I called out in my impatience, eyes closed, focused on my brother, “I know you're searching for me! I have a deal to make!”

He was drawn to me like a moth to a flame. I felt his presence before I saw him, and turned to find him stood behind me. There were dark circles under his eyes, his flesh was pallid and sweaty. Whatever I had done to him, it had caused him far more harm than I had realised. It gave me a flash of hope. It was just a flicker, a spark, that maybe I could get out of this alive.

“You rang?” he asked in a voice full of loathing, the sunny disposition he'd worn as his mask now gone.

“I have angels and demons after me, and I can't take them on alone,” I said, “I want us to team up.”

“And why would I agree to help you? You almost barbecued me,” Lee reminded me, “Not to mention, I have my own scores to settle. It's not easy to waltz in and take over Hell when the boss is still at home.”

“Then let's take out Crowley first, then the angels,” I persisted, “Think about it, you get all of Hell, and I can lord it up over Heaven. Earth is left alone, and we all walk away from this happy.”

“You really think I'd buy that?” Lee asked, “You're a hunter, as if you would go dark side just for the sake of saving a few measly hunters lives.”

“Maybe your influence rubbed off on me,” I said, “I was still awake in there when you were killing people. I felt the rush of ending their lives with my bare hands. I just think our power would be better spent on demons and angels than humans. I'm done with the small-time massacre, I really want to make some noise.”

Lee seemed satisfied at least, though I felt physically sick for saying it. The thing was, some of it was true. If it meant saving my friends then I would watch Heaven and Hell topple without shedding a tear. So long as everyone else in this field got to walk away in one piece then I'd take whatever consequences I had coming to me. My brother came in close and caressed my cheek tenderly with the tips of his icy fingers. My stomach churned, but I fought the urge to fight him off. It wasn't the most enjoyable process in the world, but it had to be done. Lee's body began to dissipate, shifting from a solid form to one of heavy black demonic smoke. It wasn't a possession, if it were then he'd have left a physical body behind. Everything disappeared, right down to his clothes.

I dropped to my knees, choking and gagging as the plumes forced their way down my gullet and began to spread through my body like a toxin. I felt the darkness consuming me from the inside. It squeezed and choked whatever it touched, trying to force my body to break and succumb to its influence. But this was when I had the best chance of destroying it, when it was on the attack. It was so busy trying to gain control that it wasn't worried about defending itself. Every ounce of power was thrown into the offensive.

And I was about to do the same.

No, I didn't have the energy to spare to protect myself from my own power. Much like the light of an angel, my own was harmful to any dark creatures. With demon blood in my veins, I was susceptible to my own abilities. But there was no way I could hold it back. If I did, then Lee would survive, and this would all have been for nothing. 

It started out as a tiny glow, like a candle the flame of angelic light cast a soft, dancing flame deep down inside. The smoke tried to snuff it out, attempted to smother it away, but the purity of it was so dazzling that the rays shone through, piercing burning holes in the noxious clouds. Lee tried to break back out, but I mentally blocked every exit, willing the light to spread to every part of my body and mind. I sealed him in with it, and then I turned up the heat.

My skin felt like it was on fire, there was no containing the power of Heaven once it was unleashed. I closed my eyes and tried to remember why I was doing this, why I had to fight through the agony I felt. I clung to all those memories, the voices, the bright blue eyes of that trench coat wearing angel. Yes, I clung to Castiel, and the feelings he'd blessed me with.

The feeling was overwhelming. Was this what death was? Tears streamed down over my cheeks, and far away there were voices calling my name. They might have just been in my head, echoes, comforts, things my body was letting me hear so I wouldn't be so afraid. My knees hit the ground and that light burst forth. The force of it uprooted the nearby trees, and no doubt blasted my friends from their feet.

It certainly destroyed Lee.

Something, some wonderful graceful being, allowed me a few glorious seconds of victory. I felt free at long last. The darkness was gone, and a beautiful, pure clarity remained. My body was light, and for the first time in all my life I actually felt human.

And that was what comforted me as I crumpled down toward the ground.

It was over.

I was free.

“Evelyn?”

It was a familiar voice. Soft and enchanting. I felt the brush of fingers on my face, the warmth that came with them made my heart skip over a beat. There she was, just as I remembered.

My mother.

“Purgatory isn't as bad as I thought it'd be,” I joked. We were in a garden, a stream ran nearby. The water was clear and refreshing, and a man sat beside it with his bare feet dipped beneath the surface. “Dad?” I asked. He turned and smiled as if he'd just noticed me.

“Hello sweetheart,” he came to help me to my feet. He was as young as the last time I'd seen him, eyes bright, hair as scruffy as ever. My father ruffled my hair and said, “You did so well, Evie. I'm proud of you.”

“This is – I mean – we're in Heaven?” I asked, perplexed, “But we're –”

“Monsters?” my mother asked, “Yes, we are. When we first came here we were confused as you were.”

“Did someone screw up our paperwork?” I looked around the garden again, “Because this all seems a little too pretty for things like us, you know?”

“We belong here,” my father assured me, “We may not be human in blood, but we are in spirit.”

“In spirit..?”

“We, all of us, have sacrificed our lives for the good of others,” my mother explained, “I died to save your life, your father turned his back on his nature to protect the weak, and you destroyed yourself to save mankind. Those are the sorts of actions that are rewarded.”

“I didn't do it because I wanted a reward.”

“Exactly,” dad said, “You did it because it was right, and sweetheart, that is what makes you special. As far as you knew, there was something worse than Hell waiting on the other side. But you had people you wanted to protect, you acted out of love.”

“If Dean were here he'd be pretending to throw up right now,” I had to joke because otherwise I was going to cry, “But at least they're safe. I mean – the deal Crowley made is broken, I was the last in our bloodline and I'm dead. That means he can't use me as a weapon.”

“Honey,” my mother stroked me hair, “You can't stay here.”

“But you just said –”

“It's not because you're undeserving,” she assured me, “It's because you're going back.”

“No!” I exclaimed. I wanted to see them again, I wanted to be with Castiel, but she couldn't send me back there. If she did then it would all be for nothing. Crowley would come for me, and the angels. I'd have died without changing a single thing.

My father laughed softly, “Don't look so worried, it won't be what you think.”

“How can you say that?! You know what I am! You know what's going to come for me if I go back to Earth! It's too dangerous!”

“The light of an angel is able to cleanse all evil and darkness from a person,” my mother said, “It didn't just purge your brother from your system, it burnt away the demon inside of you.”

“Just the demon?”

“Crowley created our bloodline using his own demonic blood. It was a base, an anchor that held everything else into place. Without it, all that will remain are the traits of your father. You're just a skin walker, and nothing else.”

“So – will I live as long as Castiel?”

“The angel boy?” my mother asked. Castiel was as old as time itself, I wasn't sure she should be calling him a boy. Not that he was here to hear it or to complain.

“So long as you don't get hit by a car, you should be fine,” my father said. He brought both my mother and I into his arms. As he squeezed tight I grit my teeth and closed my eyes. My chest was starting to hurt. Was I meant to feel pain in Heaven?

“Evelyn,” my mother said, her voice becoming faint, “When you see your uncle Bobby give him a message for me...”

With a sharp intake of breath I sat bolt upright. I was in a hospital bed, machines beeping away at my side, and a room full of exhausted looking hunters waiting for me. It didn't seem they expected me to wake up, because almost all of them jumped out of their seats when I came to.

“Evelyn!” Castiel exclaimed, wrapping me up in a crushing embrace and holding on for dear life, “What – I don't understand how you – how did you?”

“Bobby,” I gasped, “Before I forget, my Mum said that if you call me an idiot again she's going to slap you when you make it upstairs.”

“Your Mom?” he asked, “You didn't go to purgatory?”

“Apparently not,” to make sure this wasn't a dream, I hugged the angel back, nuzzling my nose against the side of his neck and breathing him in. This was definitely real. I could tell from the way I was aching all over, and how Castiel trembled in relief around me.

As great as Heaven looked, this was a much better reward. Sure, life was dangerous and painful, it was dirty and difficult, but I had the Winchesters to keep me company, Bobby to look out for me, the Harvelles to keep me grounded, and one very special blue eyed angel to remind me why I wanted to keep living so badly. I raised my head and pressed my mouth to Castiel's. When I tasted his lips against mine I realised it.

This was my Heaven.

My home.

My future.

And I would never look back.


End file.
